His Hatred

I drew back from the pink duvet as I opened my eyes. I expose my face slowly and cautiously. I blink twice, then close my eyes and blink once more. I am blinded by rays of sunshine that pass through the window. I get out of bed, drag my feet out, and rub my knuckles into my eyes. I yawn with my arms stretched over my head. My legs hang over the off-white carpet, and I keep an eye on them.

It's not my room, I turned around.

Oh, my so-called marriage to jerk Aaron Knight comes flooding back. At my husband's home, here is my new room.

It was 8:50 p. m. when I was studying, according to the digital clock on the wall.

I slept too much.

I remind myself that my maternal grandmother is an ideal wife, and she always tells me that when I get married, I must grow into an ideal wife for my husband, but I never imagined that my life would turn into a farce and that one day I would be married to the devil, Aaron Knight, who doesn't care about people but is obsessed with his business and his wealth.