Chapter Two

Roselle was in the living room when he woke up. He smiled and came up to her, planting a kiss on her cheek, but she pushed him aside. "You're just waking?"

He sighed in exasperation. "Roselle, did you understand all that I told you? I was beaten, robbed… can't you see my black eye?"

She hissed. "Well, I thought you were running away from doing your duties as a man and making excuses that you were not able to buy me a gift because you were 'robbed.' " She paused for a second then her eyes opened wide in realization. "Did you just raise your voice at me?"

His head ached so hard he was unable to answer her. He walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Finding a carton of milk, he emptied it into his mouth. It increased her fury.

"Don't you dare drink that milk from the carton! I bought it with my money and all you do is put your mouth all over it. Answer me when I'm talking to you, Raymond."

He turned to glare at her, but remembered that it was HER house he lived, he backed down.

"I've been waiting for you to make us breakfast," she snapped. "My stomach was already rumbling before you came out."

His irritation increased. "You couldn't fix something for yourself?"

She rolled her eyes. "Well, first, I don't know my way around the kitchen and that's your work. Not like you own anything in this house. I provide for us, you do the cooking and every other thing I want you to do."

Anger rose to his throat, but he suppressed it. It was all in the meantime. He had plans. When those plans worked out, he would become rich and she would come to love him as a husband, not her worker.

"What do you want to eat?" his voice trembled in anger, fear, and resignation.

She smiled, rubbing her flat tummy. His wife was dangerously beautiful with perfect curves and edges. She had a streak of blonde hair in the midst of dark hair. She had a striking smile, rosy chick, and butts that were squeezable when held. People asked how he was able to get her irrespective of his monetary status, but he also didn't know how he got her.

"Bacon and scrambled eggs with orange juice." She wasn't even looking at him, she had turned her face back to her reality show and laughed when a woman in her thirties complained in the show about her husband being a douchebag and had to suffer for it.

He shook his head and turned to the kitchen. He got out fresh bacon from the freezer and allowed it to defrost. Then, picked an egg and cracked it in a pan, stirring it and watching it scramble. Then, roasted the bacon just how she liked it. Tender on the inside, crunchy on the outside.

He placed it on a plate and mumbled, "Breakfast is served, Roselle."

She turned off the TV and sauntered to the dining, inhaling the aroma of the food and loving it. He pulled out a chair for her to sit in. When she did, tucked her in and poured her a glass of orange juice.

"Anything else, my dear?"

“My father invites us for dinner. Please, do not mess it up for me.”

"Oh…" he said in defeat.

He walked back to the bedroom and rushed to the bathroom. Turning on the sink, he splashed water all over his face, trying to relieve himself of the problems that rose to his chest.

"I'm stupid. Stupid. Stupid." He slapped himself all over his face trying to put himself together.

Roselle walked into the room and went on with her makeup without batting an eye at Raymond. When she finished, she strapped her sandals to her ankles and smiled at him. "Don't forget. Dinner at my parents' house. Don't be late, too." She brushed a kiss on his face and walked off.

Evening came and Raymond rushed to prepare for dinner at his wife’s house. He was running late already, so he didn’t take a lot of time in the bathroom. He got into a cab that led straight up to the mansion.

When he got there, he rang the doorbell and took a step back. A maid opened up, flashing her teeth. "Good evening, sir. Can you state your reason for visiting here? If you are here for the driver's position, it has been taken already. I'll ask you to leave now, please. We have a family meeting going on."

His face pinched in anger. "You're mistaken. I'm not here for the driver's position. I'm Roselle's husband, so I'm family and I'm here for dinner."

She surveyed his look and looked at him with skepticism. "Lady Roselle's husband? You can just say you're her brother instead." She banged the door in his face and fury etched his face.

He took out his phone and dialed Roselle's number. He tried to hide his anger and wrath from surfacing. Soon, the door opened.

It was that same maid. "My apologies. I didn't know that you're Lady Roselle's husband. You don't… look the type."

He bit his lower lip from saying anything and he walked in. The house was dripping with wealth. From Italian sofas to Egyptian rugs and paintings from France, he tried to steady himself from looking at them.

He navigated his way to the dining room where all the family members gathered. It was a large gathering, he suspected. Her brothers' wives and children littered the whole place chatting heartily.

Once they saw him, the whole room fell silent. Then the mutters ran in.

"The unfortunate-that-became-fortunate husband."

"The black sheep of the family."

Those were the only words he could pick out from their unstoppable chatters. Until Roselle's father coughed.

"Raymond, you're here," he said to him forcefully. "Come join us."

"So, tell me, Raymond, what do you do now?" Roselle's father asked him. His eyes pointed at him, unmasking his already revealed shame.

He cleared his throat. "Um, erm," he looked at his wife who threw her face away. "I made some investments, hoping it would turn out fine."

The whole table burst out into a cacophony of laughter. Roselle's father's belly laughs were the worst and it echoed through the whole house. "Hoping?" he snorted. "Hoping!" More laughs followed.

His cheeks reddened in embarrassment. Everyone knew how he went about with money and making investments but coming back poorer.

"When will you ever be less dumb?"

Anger pierced through his veins. His knees jiggled to stand up and leave that place. He tried, but he couldn't. He needed to stay in the family.

They moved on from his conversation to Roselle's brother's wife who talked about her visit to the white house in Washington. He felt odd in their midst--it was like he was their driver and not family.

After dinner, while Roselle talked to one of her siblings, he tried to catch up with her father to see if he could attain help from him. He sat crisscrossed at the fireplace, flipping a newspaper. The only time his body moved was when he wanted to move his glasses.

He cleared his throat. "Can I join you, sir?"

He raised his head and took off his glasses to examine him. When satisfied, he put them back on and pointed over to an empty chair. "Raymond," he drew.

He tried to complete himself in his midst but you were far from comfortable. "Mr. Devon, I… I want to… ask for a … for a favor."

He didn't say anything at first, only noises from the fire that cackled.

"Go on."

"Money, sir," he forced himself to say. "I need money for an investment I got myself into. It just needs a little bit of dollars before it gets better and when it does, I promise, sir, to always come back in gratitude. Please, just lend me."

His belly laugh returned and it was fiercer than it was at the table. Everyone turned and looked at him at the fireplace, amused at what triggered his laugh.

"You want money from me for your investments. Tell me, what kind of investments do you make?"

His hands trembled. "I have this friend that has a business going on and it’s just money that's keeping us from getting there."

"No. I am not giving you my money.”

Raymond walked out with a heavy heart, but when he got out, he saw Roselle standing there.

"When will you ever be a man, Raymond? Every day, I regret getting married to you and having to call you my husband. My brothers think you're a nobody (which I totally agree since you snoop in my purse to take money) and my father doesn't think you are part of this family. You've failed yourself as a man, you should know this."

She walked out, but stopped when she heard an alarm from the house.

And suddenly...

“You thief!” He heard from inside the house. Roselle’s father came out with a fuming face, ready to pounce on him. He didn’t understand what was going on.