They Will Fall At Her Knees

The cold breeze stung my body as I walked to the store to buy a bouquet of flowers. The truth is, I’ve been doing this for five years—ever since I got married to him.

My father’s voice still echoes in my head, from the night he announced it to the family.

“Why me?” I had said angrily, my brows furrowed—but my father’s response had shocked me.

“You will jump when I tell you to, and sit when you are told to!”

And so, his order pushed me into this living hell. Pushed me into a marriage with a man who never loved me.

While James Bradford was sleeping with almost every woman in the city of Texas, I was doing my best to be a good wife.

I cleaned when I had to, and I even did the dirtiest chores. I gave my body to he asked for it thinking he was going to love me over the years.

I don’t know why my father forced me to marry this man, but I was willing to make the marriage work.

“That’ll be twenty dollars, ma’am.”

I smiled as I reached into my bag.

I kept an eye on my phone constantly, hoping it would ring.

The idea that he might actually remember our anniversary was something I had always hoped for every year.

But James always managed to surprise me—with different women.

Every anniversary came with a different woman.

I had practically met women of every race in such a short time of marriage.

I remembered the last one. I had had a really bad day at work, and when I got home, I heard the moans of the African woman through the half-open door.

There was no point in fighting. I was tired and needed rest. I just went to the guest room and slept.

To make matters worse, my father didn’t care.

It was as if I wasn’t his child.

Or maybe I really wasn’t.

He never called, never visited—and my mother… she never loved me.

That made it easier to forget I even existed.

“Thank you,” I said with a smile as I took the rose.

I leaned over to look at the row of beautifully printed love letters and decided to buy one.

James wasn’t worth it, but maybe I should show more love to try and win his heart.

“I’ll take that one too,” I finally said, pointing at a letter.

The shopkeeper looked at me.

“Is it your anniversary today?” she asked, leaning to grab what I had requested.

“Yes,” I replied with a wide smile, even though my heart was beating so hard it was difficult to breathe.

“Congratulations. I’m sure he’s worth it, ma’am,” the young lady said, smiling.

I sighed and returned her smile.

If only James were really worth every penny. That would have made me happy.

I clutched my bag and the shopping bag close to me. I had planned to make his favorite meal tonight—and maybe, just maybe, he would finally see me as a woman, and give me a child.

Maybe that was the only way to win his heart.

The trip home barely took thirty minutes, but it felt like an eternity.

When I arrived, I found the door open.

I had thought tonight would be different.

I hoped he would remember our anniversary and not humiliate me like every other night—but I was wrong.

There was nothing special that night.

At least, not for my husband.

My legs trembled like jelly as I stepped into the house.

I saw two bottles of vodka and a woman’s purse.

No one needed to tell me what was happening.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I clutched the bag to my chest, still holding the flower I had bought earlier.

This time would be different.

I was going to confront him and ask why he treated me like trash.

But when I got to the door, I heard a familiar voice.

The moans of the woman sounded familiar. Her perfume—Velvet—was also strangely recognizable.