In a heated confrontation, I shouted at my husband, "If it were the end of the world and my survival depended on someone else, I'd rather perish than let you touch me." The words still left an acrid taste in my mouth.
Not fazed by my outburst, he slowly advanced until our faces were inches apart, his presence overwhelming. Gently, he took hold of my chin, compelling me to meet his gaze. "Go ahead, unleash your fury, Princess. When you're finished, you'll come crawling back, begging for my embrace. You'll plead for me to claim you, carry my child, and bear me the heir I desire." Pausing, he added, "That's all you'd ever be good for."
His words hung heavy in the air between us.
