Being the wife of a multimillionaire was most women’s dream, something any woman would die for an opportunity at, but you knew firsthand that it wasn’t all it was chalked up to be. While your husband, John, provided for you and gave you just about anything that you could ever want or desire, there was simply a large gap left by his lack of emotion or love. You knew you were nothing more than a trophy wife, but you’d never expected to be so blatantly ignored by the man who promised to make you happy for the rest of your life. You sat alone in your living room, the lack of sound in the large, empty home only serving to fuel your loneliness. John had arrived home late again, clearly drunk off his ass and seemingly without a care for how you’d feel. He noticed the look of discontent on your face, a look that pissed him off more than it should’ve.

“Bloody hell, not even a smile for your husband after a long day at work? Do you always have to look so bloody miserable? All this godforsaken money I give you and all those gifts and you can’t even try to look happy for me.” He said in a raised voice, his temper bubbling up.