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“Oh, I know,” he chuckles darkly.

Then he slices off my dress. I’m not sure how many times he slices the knife down the pretty fabric, but I close my eyes and try to count the sweeps of the knife. A moment later, the dress has fallen into shreds at my feet and my body is completely naked before him.

“Turn around,” he says darkly, so I do.

I see him there, still holding the knife. A smile spreads over his face.

“Come a little closer, darling.”

5

If Georgetta ever asksme about my wedding night, I’m not really sure how much I’ll actually be willing to divulge. Probably, I’ll tell her that it’s not what I expect. I suppose I thought that our wedding night would be fairly traditional with slightly perfunctory sex.

That’s not what I’m getting at all.

I step closer to Ian until I’m directly in front of him. I’m still wearing my wedding shoes, and the toes of my shoes touch the toes of his.

“Undress me.”

It’s a command he’s given me before, but this time he’s holding a knife. It’s so much worse, for some reason. I really hate the fact that he’s scaring me so deeply. He raises it, holding it to my neck as I start to undress him. I’m doing my best not to move because each time I do, I feel the knife rub against my skin just a little more deeply.

He hasn’t cut me, but he could so easily.

It’s in moments like this I’m reminded that my entire life really does rest in his hands. He can do whatever he wants to me and nothing will happen. If he kills me, people will clean up my body. If he locks me in a cage, nobody will snitch on him. Even Georgetta, whom I consider to be the closest thing I’ve ever had to a real friend, won’t be able to do very much because she, too, is held captive in this house.

Somehow, I manage to get Ian naked. Everything, including his shoes, now rests on the floor, and I’m kneeling in front of him.

The point of the knife is still against my neck, still cold against my skin, as I look up at him.

“Ian,” I whisper.

“You’re forgetting your manners, Rose.”

“We’re all alone,” I tell him. “Perhaps it’s time to reconsider what good manners are between a husband and a wife.”

He likes to play these little games. He loves these feelings of power. He loves the giving and the taking and the scaring, but I do, too. I hate myself for it. There are moments throughout the day when I just completely, totally hate myself for going along with this, but there are moments, too, where I feel like it’s submission that offers me true freedom.