Disclaimer: Don't own him, just own the Mary character.
Distribution: Flights.
Rating: PG-13
Content: Domestic violence
Summary: The last person you'd expect to be a wife beater turns out to be the worst of them all.

Mary was smiling. Her whole body ached but she was smiling as she met and greeted her husband's friends and coworkers and their loved ones. They all looked at her strangely though. In the middle of summer, in one of the hottest states in the United States of America, why the hell was she wearing a long sleeved shirt and baggy jeans?
"Darling," said Joanie, putting an arm over the woman's delicate shoulders, "aren't you going to be hot?"
"Ugh, I'm too used to this weather. Actually, compared to the usual, this is getting a bit chilly."
"You're crazy!"
"It's the weather that makes me that way."
As Joanie walked away, she didn't catch Mary's grimace of pain. But Mary's husband didn't miss it. And he was on her right away.
"What can I do for you husband dear?" she asked with a smile on her face.
"Watch your damn self! I saw that face you made just now and if I could see it, anyone else could."
"I'll be more careful."
"It's too your advantage. Think of your little girl."
Mary gasped and quickly nodded her agreement. She thought of their beautiful little girl who was probably in the backyard, charming everyone's socks off. She had her father's eyes and like her mother, she'd learned to fear the family's bread winner. He'd never touched her but she'd seen him attack her mother and that fear was deeply imbedded in her.
"All right, I'll be more careful. I promise."
"No promises. Just do it."
"Yes. I will do it."
"See to it that you do," he whispered in her ear as he wrapped his arm around her in what seemed to the world like a warm embrace.
In reality, his fingers were digging into the soft skin of her waist, making her breath catch in her throat. And to compound his threat, his nails were tight around the bud of her nipple. Mary looked up at him, willing herself not to cry. It'd be worse if she cried in front of people. So much worse.
Then, he moved away from her, leaving her to man the door as the others arrived. She did her very best to be perfect. She was funny and polite with everyone, made sure they always had plenty of food to eat and refreshments. He had even smiled at her at some point. He was pleased. She had pleased him.
The realization brought her such joy that she felt like she was walking on clouds. To most people, she was a victim of domestic abuse, but Mary knew better. She wasn't a victim, she was in love. So what if her husband beat her every once in a while? He was stressed and when he came home, it was her duty to make sure everything was just right for him. That was what good wives did for their husbands. As such, as her husband, he had to teach her how to do the right things to please him.
Mary was putting the last touches on a cake for dessert when Amy and Joanie bounced into the kitchen.
"What's up ladies?" she asked with a wide smile.
"Well, we decided you've worked hard enough for today. So it's time for you to relax and enjoy yourself in the pool."
"I wish I could. But I can't. Who's going to get the cake out there?"
"You could let your beautiful husband do that," said Amy with a shrug. "I mean, a big guy like him must be able to carry a puny little cake."
"It's all right. I don't want to disturb him..."
But Joanie was already out on the deck, calling out to Mary's husband. He came running up the stairs, a smile on his face.
"What can I do for you lovely ladies?"
"For some reason, your lovely wife doesn't want to join us pool side because she has to get the cake out. So we thought," grinned Joanie, "that you'd show off your wonderful skills as a husband and carry out the cake while we help Mary pick out a swimsuit."
"No, Joanie, that's okay, please..."
"No," her husband whispered, coming to stand by her side, gently pecking her cheek, "you deserve to relax. Joanie, Amy, why don't the two of you go back outside and I'll see what I can do to convince her."
"You got five minutes," said Amy with a smile. "And make sure you bring out that cake. It looks delicious."
"Will do."
From the moment he turned back to her, Mary felt more afraid than she'd been in a long time.
"How are you trying to humiliate me now wife?"
"I'm not, I swear."
"Then why refuse to go out there and hang out by the pool."
"The bruises," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
"What?"
"The bruises on my back and on my arms, they'll show."
He took a deep breath and tightened his fingers around her wrist, dragging her upstairs. He pulled her into their bedroom and calmly unbuttoned her shirt. Mary knew better than to move as he did this. He took a deep breath as he watched the bruises all over her torso and back. He recognized every hand print. He bent his head, his long hair making goose bumps rise all over her creamy flesh.
His tongue ran over the imprints his fingers had left on her skin. Mary sighed and slowly ran her fingers through his hair, enjoying its softness. His touch was so soft, so light, so perfect.
"I'll make up a story for you," he whispered against her throat.
"Thank you. I love you so..."
"But next time, to avoid another situation like this, make sure you don't annoy me before a party with my friends. I won't let you embarrass me again."
"But..."
The tight fist connected with her side before she could finish her thought. Mary fell to the ground, cradling her already bruised ribs. He kicked her thighs once and walked away.
"Get your lazy ass downstairs and bring out the cake. People are waiting for it."
Slowly, Mary got up and recomposed herself. She put on a new shirt and ran a comb through her hair. And headed downstairs to the kitchen. She put the finishing touches on the cake and brought it out.
The sight that awaited her almost made her give it all up. She gritted her teeth and watched as her husband picked up their little daughter and threw her up in the air, ignoring the child's frightened cries. It was a message, a very clear message, a message to her. She'd better toe the line or her child would suffer.
Pasting on a smile that never reached the eyes she'd covered with sunglasses, Mary went down the stairs and put the cake down on the main table and cut it into pieces for all their guests. Once that was done, she joined her husband and child by the pool. The little girl eagerly went into her mother's arms as he wrapped them both in a bear hug.
"Look at Adam and his wife. I swear, when I look at them, I know that no matter how hard Paul and I try, we'll never have what they have."
"What's that?" Amy asked.
"The perfect family," sighed Joanie.

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