The Errant Bride

by Dinah McLeod

  I didn’t think I’d ever seen him this mad. I was holding my breath, certain that he would throw me over his lap and begin spanking at full throttle, with my panties pulled down to my knees, but he didn’t. Instead, throwing an icy glare my way, he stomped out of the room.

  I wanted to feel relieved—victorious, even. I had just won an argument, and hopefully put an end to this spanking nonsense for good. Instead I just felt hollow. I waited for him to come back, but he didn’t. I wanted to call out for him, but somehow that felt like admitting defeat, and I didn’t want to do that, either. Instead, I hugged my knees to my chest and waited, ignoring the growling in my stomach.

  Compulsively, I kept glancing at the clock. 7:00 came and went, followed by 7:30, and before I knew it even 8:00 rolled around without a reappearance from my husband. Finally, I could bear the pain in my stomach no longer and I got up and headed to the kitchen. The half-eaten lasagna was still on the stovetop, cool to the touch, cheese congealed.

  Still, I was starving, so I grabbed a breadstick and began wolfing it down as I reheated the lasagna. All the lights in the house were off, and I was chilled by how creepy it looked, with the slits in the blinds half-open, creating shadow creatures that were dancing on my walls. Worse still, I didn’t know where my husband was. I didn’t even hear him leave.

  The bread stuck in my mouth as I tried to swallow. I was trying very hard not to cry. I’d won. I shouldn’t feel so miserable. I bit off another bite of the breadstick and then set it down. Suddenly, it tasted like sand paper in my mouth.

  What should I do? I wondered. I didn’t want things to go like this. I never should have fought with him. I didn’t know he’d leave me, or I never would have.

  I grabbed my cell phone, and hit number 1 on my speed-dial and listened impatiently as it rang before eventually clicking over to voicemail. It hurt too much to hear his sexy, upbeat voice, so I disconnected the phone only to redial him again with the same results.

  I bit my lower lip and deliberated for what felt like half an hour before calling my mother-in-law. She picked up on the second ring.

  “Sara, honey? Is that you?”

  Ethan had to be over there! I thought with tremendous relief. Otherwise she would have assumed it was he.

  “Yes, ma’am. I was just wondering if—” I stopped in midsentence as I heard the lock click. As soon as Ethan came in, dark hair tousled and blue eyes liquid pools of agony, I hung up the phone. We stood in silence, staring at each other with tortured expressions. I didn’t think either of us wanted to be the first one to break, but dammit I just didn’t care anymore!

  I rushed toward him, hitting his solid form with a thud. I knocked him a step back, but then his arms came around me, holding me tight, rubbing my back. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, I am. You’re right. You’re right.”

  A thrill shot through me, not only because of what he’d said, but also because of the gentle, loving way that he said it.

  “I never should have gone to your dad without telling you,” he said in my ear. His hot breath against my skin made a delicious tingle run through my body. “I was feeling so confused, and you didn’t think there was a problem. I felt so helpless.”

  “I know,” I murmured.

  “I didn’t know what else to do. But it won’t happen again. We’re a team, and I never should have forgotten that. From now on, if I want to talk to your dad I will let you know first.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that either, but I didn’t want to spoil the moment so I let the comment slide. There would be plenty of time for talking later, and I could address it then.

  “Do you forgive me?” he asked, sounding pitiful.

  “Yes,” I whispered breathlessly. “Don’t ever leave me again. I was so scared!”

  “Shh. I didn’t leave you—I just needed to clear my head. I’m never going to leave you, Sara. We’re forever, baby.”

  Not much later that night I learnt that there is nothing in the world quite like makeup sex. I’d heard my girlfriends talk about it before, and I’d read all about it in Cosmo, but I had never had any reason to find out firsthand. I was not sure what it is that made it so special: whether it’s because we’d gotten so heated and worked up during our argument—our first big disagreement—or the fact that we were just reveling in being together, as man and wife. Whatever the reason, we didn’t make it back to the bedroom that night… or the couch. We laid together arms and legs intertwined after we were spent, and I fell asleep with my head on his chest, listening to the sound of his breathing.

  The last thing I remembered thinking before I drifted off, a smile on my face, was: Thank God everything is back to normal.

  ***

  I woke up to the smell of bacon frying. It was my favorite smell, but I felt so deliciously warm I didn’t think I could move if I wanted to. My stomach had different ideas, however, and was growling so fiercely that I had to sit up whether I liked it or not. I’d been wrapped in a fleece blanket, which explained how cozy I was.

  I was about to untangle myself from the blanket and get up when I saw Ethan walking toward me, holding two plates. He set one down in front of me, and to my surprise I saw a spread of blueberry French toast, fresh grapefruit, and bacon. He’d even remembered to put the syrup on the side. I was more than a little impressed.

  “Thank you,” I said, yawning.

  He winked at me, and before I knew it he was back with my coffee. With barely a nod of acknowledgment, I began to fork French toast into my mouth like it was the last meal I’d ever eat. It wouldn’t have been a bad one to choose, either. Ethan had always been one hell of a cook.

  “How is it, babe?” he asked in a teasing tone as I began munching on my bacon.

  “Mmm hmm,” I replied, ignoring his chuckles. It was only after I cleaned my plate and asked for seconds that I realized something. “Hey! Why aren’t you at work?”

  “I called in a personal day,” he called back from the kitchen. “You’re not going in today, are you?”

  “No,” I drew the word out slowly, mystified.

  “Well, neither am I. I thought we needed to spend some time together. You know, after everything. I think it will help us to reconnect.”

  By the time he brought me a new plate that was loaded with another piece of blueberry French toast and two more slices of crisp bacon, I was giving him an ear-to-ear grin.

  “Thank you,” I told him, and I hoped he could hear the gratitude in my voice. I hoped he knew how grateful I was.

  “I think you’d do anything for a piece of bacon,” he teased. “It could make for a very interesting reality show.”

  I rolled my eyes skyward and didn’t bother to reply. I could feel him watching me as I ate. Normally, I was more mindful of my table manners, but this morning my appetite was too ravenous to allow for common courtesies.

  When I was done, I pushed the plate away from me noting that it was streaked with syrup. Half a piece of bacon was stuck in the sugary brown liquid, and I was tempted to eat that, too. Since I doubted I would be able to button my pants as it was, I resisted the urge.

  “Finished?” Ethan asked, and I could tell by his tone of voice that he was still teasing me.

  “Mmm-hmm,” I sighed. I was so full and happy that I was incapable of speech. I motioned for him to sit beside me, but he didn’t seem to see me. There was nothing I would like more right now than to have an Ethan-shaped pillow to curl up against.

  I felt sleepy again and my lids were on their way to closing when I noticed that his face had turned serious. His eyes were watching me in an appraising way, the laughter had left his lips and his jaw had hardened.

  Suddenly I felt rejuvenated, and more than a bit panicked. Especially when I saw him sliding a white paper across the floor toward me.

  “What’s this?” I asked, my stomach sinking. I knew all of this had been too good to be true!

  “Read it,” he instructed, quiet but authoritative.

  So I did. HOU
SE RULES was typed on the front, and as soon as I made out the words I knew with certainty that I was not going to like this. Still, I read on.

  HOUSE RULES

  1. Dinner is to be made nightly by the wife, unless otherwise arranged or in cases of emergency.

  2. The house is to be kept neat and clean at all times.

  3. No cursing is permitted.

  4. We will speak respectfully to each other at all times.

  5. No sign of disobedience is allowed and will be punishable immediately.

  Any deviation from these rules will result in punishment by corner time/spanking/removal of privileges, as to be determined by the husband. The wife is to submit to any punishment willingly. The rules are subject to additions or changes at any time. The wife will be notified if any such changes take place.

  My eyes had barely finished scanning it when I dropped it as though it’s burned me. I was trying so hard to understand why he was doing this, but it just didn’t make sense to me.

  “Put it on the table, please,” Ethan commanded.

  I didn’t hesitate to obey. Not because of the stupid rules, but because I was too shocked to think straight. After I’d put the paper on the table, I pushed it toward him, wanting to get it as far away from me as possible.

  “Honey, look at me.”

  I shook my head, and stared down at my hands instead, which were balled into fists in my lap. Did that count as disobedience? I thought to myself sourly.

  “What’s your objection to this lifestyle, Sara?”

  I rolled my eyes at him, but he couldn’t see my face. The question was so ridiculous—it should be obvious to him. The fact that he even had to ask made me wonder if he knew me at all.

  “Because you don’t like getting spanked?” he asked. I sighed loudly, but when I didn’t offer anything further, he kept talking. “I don’t like spanking you either, you know. But it’s always up to you—if you follow these rules, then there won’t be any need for me to punish you.”

  I bet you do like it, I longed to tell him. Otherwise, what was the point of a grown woman being treated like a child by her husband?

  “Sara, I’m talking to you. I need you to respond, please.” His words were polite, but there was an underlying edge in his voice.

  “I hate this!” I burst out. “You’re so…mean to me now!”

  “Mean?” he arched an eyebrow. “How am I mean to you? I just took off work so that we could talk about all this. I made you breakfast. I need you to help me out here. What do I do that is so mean? Are you saying that because I spank you occasionally?”

  I rolled my eyes again, and this time he saw. I could tell he didn’t like it. “Yes, because you spank me! No one else has to worry that their husband is going to punish them like they’re toddlers!”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Sara. I found this document of rules on the internet.”

  I stared at him blankly. Why did I care where he found it? All I cared about was that he kept insisting on being like this in the first place!

  “Which means,” he explained, “that other people must do this. I printed it exactly like it is here; I haven’t added anything to it yet. So that means that there are other husbands out there that spank their wives. So it must work for some couples, and I think it’ll work for us.”

  “No one that I know does it,” I huffed.

  Ethan grinned at me, and I was sure I was not going to like what he had to say about it. “Are you sure? Maybe you should invite all your girlfriends over and explain the situation to them, see what they say.”

  I flushed at the thought. “I can’t do that!”

  “I know, baby. I was joking. So, your only real objection is that you don’t know anyone who lives this way?”

  “And the spanking,” I mumbled.

  “And the spanking,” he agreed. “I know you don’t like it, babe, but I do think it’s helping us. Don’t you feel happier?”

  “I never felt unhappy before,” I protested, and I locked eyes with him to see if he was going to admit that he did.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “I didn’t decide to do this because I’m not happy or because I don’t love you. It’s the opposite. I see behaviors that could cause us both to be unhappy in the long run, and I’m trying to step in now and prevent that. I want us to be together for a long, long time, Sara.”

  My eyes filled with tears unexpectedly, and as I began to cry, I felt his arms come around me.

  “Hey, none of that now,” he murmured, holding me tight.

  “Or what? You’ll put me in time out?” I demanded, but I was laughing.

  “Hmm…that would be an interesting rule.”

  We spent several long minutes with him holding me and I finally had my Ethan-sized pillow. I leaned into him, enjoying his scent of Dove soap and freshly mowed grass. I guessed he’d been doing yard work while he let me sleep in.

  “You know, honey…”

  I looked up at him expectantly, and his expression was amused.

  “You might know someone who does this, even if you don’t know it.”

  A thought hit me suddenly, and I didn’t want to hear anymore. I wanted to tell him I didn’t care, I didn’t want to know, but I found that I was holding my breath, unable to protest.

  “Maybe you should talk to your parents.”

  I bolted upright, grimacing. “Are you sure?”

  He chuckled at me, and pulled me back into his embrace. “Not one hundred percent, no. But…your dad seemed to know an awful lot about this.”

  “Is that what you two talked about?”

  “Not at first,” he leaned over and nibbled on my ear for a moment, but I pulled away. I didn’t want anything distracting me from this conversation. “You know, it started fairly normal. How’s the weather, we’re thinking of starting a garden, oh, and by the way, do you spank your wife when she misbehaves?”

  “Ethan!” I yelped in protest, whirling to face him. “Please tell me you didn’t!” I studied his face for any sign that he was teasing me. A lock of his dark black hair had fallen down, covering one of his baby blue eyes. I longed to reach over and brush it back, but I kept my hands at my sides. Every time he reminded me that he sought my dad out for advice, I felt a familiar surge of anger. This new revelation wasn’t helping matters, and I was afraid that just touching him would weaken my resolve to stay mad. I’m not ready to calm down just yet.

  He just shrugged at my horror. “Not exactly, but yes, it did come up.”

  I steeled myself against the urge to yell at him. I didn’t want to fight with him again, but he wasn’t making it easy. “Why would you do that? How could you ask my father for advice?”

  Ethan bit down on his bottom lip and looked skyward, his patent pensive stare. He didn’t say anything for several long minutes and I started to get antsy. I was just so frustrated by the situation. I began tapping my foot, and when even that didn’t prod a response out of him I let out a long, tortured sigh.

  “Sara,” he said in a low, warning voice. I scowled at him in response, but I stilled my taping foot.

  It shouldn’t have been this hard! He had to know why he had wanted to talk to my dad about me! Which he never should have done in the first place, anyway. Maybe he was just realizing that now? Maybe that was why he’d gotten so quiet. Maybe he was thinking of a good way to apologize. Next time I talked to my dad, I was going to let him know exactly what I thought about him interfering in my marriage!

  “I went to your dad because I realized I don’t know how to handle you.” These were the last words I was expecting, and I bristled as soon as I heard them. He put a restraining hand on my arm, almost as though he knew I wanted to jump up and run away from him. “You can so sweet, and loving. And you’re fun to be around. These are things I love about you, Sara. But other times… well, you can be argumentative and moody.”

  “That describes most women,” I said coldly.

  He shrugged in response. “Maybe that’
s true. But I’m not married to most women, and I don’t want to be, either. Do you want me to go out drinking after work every night, or go golfing on the weekends and ignore you, just because other men do it? No? Then you shouldn’t take your cues from other women. I have never believed in that PMS crap, Sara, and you know it.”

  “This has nothing to do with—”

  He held up a hand and I stopped in midsentence. “Let me finish, please. Lately you’re bad moods have increased until it’s more often than not. I’ve tried to be nice, and understanding. I’ve taken you out on dates; I’ve brought you flowers. Nothing I’ve done has seemed to snap you out of it, and frankly, I’m tired of it, baby. You’re an amazing woman, and I love you. I want to spend forever with you, but I don’t intend to live like this.”

  I felt like my tongue was leaden. I was not sure I could lift it to speak, even if I knew what to say. I felt too stunned even to cry.

  Ethan waited a few minutes for me to say something, but when he saw that no reply was forthcoming, he plunged ahead. “I never realized how bad things could get when you’re angry, and frankly, I didn’t have a clue what to do about it. So, I got to thinking that your dad, as the first man in your life, has probably seen a lot more temper tantrums than I have. So I went to talk to him, to see if he had any advice.”

  Oh, I just bet he did! I wanted to yell. And I did not throw temper tantrums! If you could learn to pick your socks up off the floor or clean your plate off before putting it in the sink, we’d have the perfect marriage! Or, at least we would have had before you ran to my parents with your tail between your legs! It was a good thing I kept my thoughts to myself, because I was pretty sure Ethan wouldn’t approve, but at the same time I was just dying to let him know what I really thought.

  “I remembered how weird I thought it was when he spanked you on our wedding day. Do you remember?” I nodded wordlessly. “I remember how mad I was. I thought he was being a jerk, he had to be, because I just knew you would never do anything to deserve that kind of treatment, right?”