Chapter 3
PART 3:
The first year, Dominic corrected little things.
Her clothes.
Her laugh.
Her phone habits.
Her friends.
He said he hated when she dressed “for attention.”
He said her best friend was jealous of their marriage.
He said wives who loved their husbands didn’t keep secrets.
So she shared her passwords.
Then he changed them.
The second year, he controlled money.
She had worked before marriage.
Not a glamorous job, but an honest one.
She managed inventory for a restaurant group, handled vendor accounts, and was good with numbers.
Dominic told her she didn’t need to work.
“My wife doesn’t clock in for strangers,” he said.
At first, she felt cared for.
Then she realized care without freedom was just a prettier cage.
Every purchase needed explanation.
Every grocery receipt got checked.
Every mistake became proof she was ungrateful.
Then his parents moved in for “a short stay” after his father’s surgery.
The stay became permanent.
His mother took over the dining room.
His father took over the den.
The young wife lost every quiet corner of the house.
Dominic’s mother watched her cook like a prison guard.
Too much salt.
Too little sauce.
Wrong knife.
Wrong plate.
Wrong tone.
Wrong wife.
If she objected, Dominic’s mother would smile.
“I’m trying to help you become suitable.”
Dominic never defended her.
Instead, he repeated his mother’s words in private.
“She’s right. You embarrass me when you act common.”
The first time he shoved her, she hit the pantry door with her shoulder.
He apologized before the bruise even formed.
He brought flowers.
He cried.
He said he had been stressed.
He said she had made him feel disrespected.
She wanted to believe the apology more than the injury.
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So she stayed.
👉 But each apology only taught Dominic that hurting her had no consequences.
