THE CONTROL: An Arranged Marriage Romance by Elena Monroe (best big ereader txt) 📗

hand behind my back still laced in his fingers, he kept me close, pushing and pulling my hips at a quicker pace.

“Always, Evey. I would go to hell for you just to keep your halo,” his voice was breathy, and his chest heaved into my breasts. He was close to coming undone and it felt like a rite of passage to see him give in.

Working my hips faster, I felt myself tighten around his thickness until I melted deeper on top of him. I felt like lava again and it overtook my senses.

Twisting my other hand behind my back, his grip tightened and held me still while I felt him fill me. I swore the drunkenness I felt off of Bowen was shifting into blacking out, and I didn’t care if it meant I would feel this longer.

Pressed against each other, he dropped the grip on my hands and wrapped his arms around me. I was merciless against his strength when he moved and I was curled up against him, his arm over my hip, yanking the blanket up around us.

He held me like this until my eyes fluttered closed against his heat.

Bowen was the one getting drunk every night, yet I was saddled with waking up in the middle of the night to throw up everything I ate that day without even forcing myself too.

I no longer subscribed to the idea of hugging porcelain just to keep myself safe. I didn’t have to keep myself safe anymore; I was already saved.

I was enjoying getting reacquainted with food, playing videos to walk me through cooking to discovering what my taste buds were salivating for. Sometimes I felt guilty for eating too much, but I would talk myself off the ledge. My demons were dead and I wasn’t creating more in their place.

My stomach clenched and twisted in a painful way while the tile dug into my knees. I knew something was wrong, my gut told me so when I was doing everything right and still kneeling at this altar.

My virginity was checked monthly but my fertility only every few months. When I dropped down to double numbers instead of triple, the doctor’s appointments always ended the same way: I was infertile.

It was always a relief even with my mind hiding exactly why. My body rejected the possibility of Elias getting me knocked up in the off chance it could happen. I never considered it a fluke only because I was walking on the side of death instead of thriving.

Standing in the mirror, examining myself and the small amount of weight I put on, I tried to diagnose myself with anything else.

I knew in my heart something was wrong… or right depending on how you view two fucked up people, one demon and one angel, being pregnant.

This is supposed to be our happy ending.

Why not end with a redemption pregnancy?

I tossed and turned all night contemplating how I should feel. I wanted to feel happy but when your husband is on a one-way track to self-destruction, it doesn’t make telling him any easier. I could blurt it out that I think I’m pregnant and risk him forgetting a few bottles into the next day.

In my sleepless night, I texted Grace asking her twenty-one questions about how she knew she was pregnant, what doctor she goes to, how she felt in the beginning… I wasn’t doing myself any favors in concealing anything.

Finally giving in to my questions, she asked me a question I didn’t expect: Do you wanna handle this privately or…? Khaos has a guy on call.

Grace is my best friend without any doubt, but I didn’t expect her to keep shocking me when she sent me a text to be ready in twenty minutes. It was basically dawn; what doctor is available this early? I didn’t want to question it. Bowen would be asleep until at least mid-morning the way he had been for days now.

The entire car ride back to my house, I looked down at the sheet of paper that said I was positively, without a doubt, pregnant.

Grace was talking, yet all her words sounded like they were coming from miles away so tuning her out wasn’t hard.

I was lost in how I was going to get Bowen’s attention long enough to deliver the news and get him sober enough to remember when Grace finally snapped her fingers in front of my face. “You in there? Your man is passed out next to the door…”

Looking up, I saw Bowen sitting on the cement of the landing, pressed against the door with his back pressed against the lip that held the door in place. I could see the keys hanging from the lock and the bottle preciously held against his chest.

This wasn’t the first time, but it was the first time someone else was witnessing it.

Grace had a scowl on her lips, ready to kill him or at least berate him until he wanted to die. “This bad? Guess we’ve moved on from the showstopper side of Bowen...”

“Normal, lately. He’s going through a lot. I kind of spilled the beans about his mom being groomed and other stuff too from Denmark…” I hadn’t filled Grace in about everything quite yet, I wasn’t ready.

Thanking her for all the connections, the drive, the support, and for being my friend, I squeezed her to my chest and exited the car. Walking to the front door, I carefully stepped over Bowen, twisting the key already jammed in the lock and carefully closed it behind me.

There was no chance I was going to wake him up or drag him inside by myself. Part of me was convinced he deserved it, to sleep outside until he realized that’s how far from grace he fell.

I knew Grace wasn’t going