My brow furrowed in disbelief. "Donovan, are you seriously defending that man? Did you not see the way he touched my thigh, how he leered at my chest like a maniac?"
His response was another sharp slap. "You lying bitch! He told me he only wanted to shake your hand."
Even in a moment where a husband should protect his wife, Donovan chose to oppose me.
"And don't think I didn't notice the way you kept making that smug, bored face all night! You looked completely uninterested! Maybe next time, I'll just lock you in your room during my gatherings. You're nothing but an embarrassment to me!" He spat.
With my head bowed, I quietly replied, "I agree, Donovan. I'd rather be locked in my room than forced to smile at your parties, pretending to be happy, only to be beaten later. I'm sick of it—"
Before I could finish, another slap landed on my cheek, harder this time, splitting my lip and drawing blood.