Everyone in this story is 18 years old or older. Please enjoy!
*****
After a while, Benjamin could tell that his wife was getting sleepy. She had a long day, and was no doubt very tired and emotionally drained. She'd begun to doze once or twice that evening. The way she couldn't keep her eyes open as she reclined in her chair told him that she'd had enough.
"Are you tired Giselle?"
Her head snapped up as she blinked, "Yes, Sir," she said after a moment.
"You don't have to call me that anymore."
Giselle gave him a curious look.
"That title is earned. Or at the very least, it's used by someone who knows its meaning. At any rate, I certainly have not earned it with you. You can call me Benjamin for now."
Giselle said nothing. But, when Benjamin told her to get into bed, she did just that. Crawling on to the large oak frame, she nestled herself in the covers. Benjamin shut the glass door as he came back from the balcony.
"I'll let you get settled as I read." He said taking a seat in the large velvet armchair. The fire crackled behind him as he thumbed through the pages to find his place. He'd chosen the book strategically. He knew well that it mirrored some of the events that had taken place in his home. He thought she would identify with the characters and would take some comfort in that. He thought perhaps she would ask him to read it to her. At the very least, he'd thought it a good conversation starter.
Benjamin tried to appear pleasant as his wife drifted to sleep. He'd wanted to talk more with her, but he could see her straining to stay awake. Finally, he could see her expression change to a more relaxed look. Her mouth parting just slightly as she drifted to sleep. He let her rest there, undisturbed for another moment. Her beauty was striking. He'd never laid eyes on a more beautiful creature. Her slender wrists and dainty hands folded underneath her rosy cheeks. She had a beautiful complexion. A lovely sight she was.
More than that, she seemed to always surprise him. Her reactions were hard to predict. He never knew just what she was going to say or do, and it was an exciting challenge to Benjamin. Part of him wished to not tame her spirit at all. Yet, more than anything he wanted someone to serve him, and he wanted to serve her in return. He wanted to provide her with everything she needed and give her life structure and meaning. Before he could know how to help her, he needed to get to know her. He needed to know more about her past; he needed to know how it influenced who she'd become and what she wanted most in the world.
When she awoke the next morning, Benjamin was in the bed beside her. He was sleeping peacefully. Giselle scooted away, careful not to disturb him. She rolled over so that her back was facing him. After a moment, she sighed and got up. She tended to the fireplace and then sat in the chair, curling her feet up in order to avoid touching the cold floor. Her eyes peered at the flickering flames that danced in the fireplace. She thought back to the night before and felt the burn mark still on her wrist. Why she had been compelled to do it, she could not say. Something just came over her, an overwhelming fear, or perhaps it was the gnawing feeling of helplessness.
That was one thing about living here. She was never cold. The blazing fire in every bedroom kept her warm and cozy. It was so unlike her father's home, drafty and wet from the snow that melted and dripped through the windows and ceiling. There she'd slept in the small full-sized bed. She'd shared it with her father after her mother had been taken from them.
She shook her head at the thought. Turning to see the man in the bed. It was not so different, she supposed. Something inside her felt guilty at her thought. Benjamin had been kind to her. Still, it wouldn't be long until he was taking advantage of her again. She thought about leaving to get breakfast, but she wasn't sure if he wanted her to leave the room. She thought about taking a bath but didn't want him to come in on her. Unsure of what to do, she waited for him to wake up.
It was hours later when he finally stirred in the bed. Groggily, he sat up and looked at her. As his eyes caught a glimpse of her, she saw him smirk. Giselle was setting down his book, laying it on the couch beside her.
"What did you think?" he started.
"I'm sorry?"
"About the book? What do you think?"
Giselle paused unsure, "I enjoyed the characters and the plot was intriguing. I just didn't really like the ending," she said gambling on the truth.
"Why not?"
"At the start, the man has a specific goal in mind, and by the end he's completely changed course and isn't even pursuing it anymore. What was the point?"
"Don't you feel he learned his lesson and changed?"
"I think his decisions were strangely out-of-character and that the change didn't seem authentic or earned."
Benjamin nodded, still taken back by her observations, "I can see why you'd say that. I have some other books if you'd like to take a look at them. They're somewhat similar stories but you might prefer them."
"Why don't we go make some breakfast and we can bring it in there to eat while we find something for you to read?"
Giselle was confused. He was being strangely kind her her, she was wondering when it would stop, "Yes, I would like that," she paused, "Thank you."
Once they were in the kitchen, Benjamin helped Giselle to find everything they needed. He pulled out a large tray and two tea cups with saucers. The sweet scent filled the air as Gisselle sliced oranges on the cutting board Benjamin had given to her. She placed them into a bowl with grapes and strawberries.