After a long, exhausting day at work, you waited in the car while she wrapped up a board meeting dealing with the harassment allegations. Finally, she tapped on the car door to get your attention. “Oi! Wake up!” She slid into the seat with a sigh, checking her lipstick in the mirror before reapplying it. Without warning, she leaned over and planted a kiss on your cheek. “Mwah~ Ugh, that meeting was brutal. I swear, those board members looked ready to eat me alive so scaryyy!” She pinched your cheek lightly, teasing. “Didn’t I tell you to go home? But no, you waited for me. Such a gentleman~.” Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up, absently tracing a heart on your arm as she spoke. “Hi, Daddy. No, no, I don’t need a ride home. My hubby here waited for me like a good little doggy. HAHA!!, okay, bye~!” She ended the call, turning up the heater with a shiver. “Ugh, it’s freezing! And in these clothes? Totally not helping.” She cracked her spine a habit she’d picked up recently, emphasizing her age difference with you. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. Drive already, I’m freezing. Oh, and I’m starving. Can we get takeout?” She pulled out her phone, scrolling through Instagram and eyeing posts from her employees. Her face shifted slightly as jealousy flickered across it. They looked so young and fresh, while she felt old. She was still wearing her wedding dress a sheer white lace piece with floral patterns because it made her feel youthful, even if only a little. Brenda’s Inner Thoughts: Okay Brenda, stop. This is just cyberbullying at this point. Why am I even looking at these posts? Ugh… he hasn’t even said anything about how I look. Maybe I don’t look as good as I thought in this dress.

Without glancing up from her phone, she tilted her head slightly. "Oh, uhm... Surprises me something yummy, okay?" She snickered at her own joke before finally looking away from the screen and back at you with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You know what I mean. Just get something good for me. Don't want to ruin this perfect figure now, do we~?" She winked and ran a hand over her stomach suggestively. She seemed unaware of the fact that she was actually rubbing it just right under her nipples, causing them to harden through the lace fabric of her bridal lingerie underneath.

"By the way," she added casually, as if it were no big deal, "there's something I've been meaning to ask you. How do you feel about moving into my dad's house? It'd be much more comfortable for me having you around... plus, I hear he misses his baby girl." She batted her eyelashes innocently, feigning ignorance of the implications this request might have.

Brenda's lips curled into a smirk at his comment. "Oh, you're so sweet! I knew there was a reason I married you." She paused for a moment, watching as your expression shifted slightly before continuing more innocently, "What do you think of me moving into your place instead? It could be nice for us to have our own space, don't you think?" Her brows raised in what she hoped looked like an interested expression.

In truth, the thought made her uneasy. Giving up her old life for a new one with you would mean losing control. But she knew it was something that might have to happen if they were going to make this work long-term. And deep down, she wanted it badly... or at least she told herself she did.

Her smile widened as she leaned back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. "Oh, I won't have any problems with you," she purred, tilting her head and batting her eyelashes flirtatiously. "I can handle a big, strong man like you."

Brenda's inner turmoil continued to churn as the car pulled into the driveway of your modest apartment building. As she glanced around at your plain surroundings, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret for what could have been: living in her father's mansion, surrounded by luxury and wealth. But here they were, forced together in this tiny place. She sighed heavily as you led her up the stairs to your apartment.

"Alright, sweetheart," she said with false cheerfulness when you opened the door. "Let's get inside and have some takeout before it gets cold." Inside, the small apartment looked even smaller under the weight of all her luggage. You hadn't bothered to unpack from your honeymoon yet; it had been such a short trip anyway.

She busied herself with setting up the food on the kitchen table while you set down your suitcase and went to put some music on. The silence was starting to grate on her already, but she didn't want to seem impatient or demanding... at least not yet. As the aroma of their dinner filled the air, Brenda turned to face you, hands on her hips as she tried to project an air of confidence and control.

Brenda's expression froze. She felt the blood drain from her face as she tried to process what you had just said. A new house... much bigger than this... moving in a month? It was like a punch to the gut. Suddenly, all of her anxieties and fears came crashing down around her, leaving her feeling small and helpless. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but no words came out.

Her hands balled into fists at her sides as she glared at you across the kitchen table. Her first instinct was to lash out, to accuse you of lying or trying to push her away. But deep down, she knew that wouldn't achieve anything. No, if she wanted this relationship to work, she needed to control it... somehow.

Brenda forced a smile onto her face and took a step forward. "Well," she said slowly, forcing herself to sound calm and composed, "that sounds wonderful. I just hope we can make sure our new home is comfortable for both of us." She paused for dramatic effect before adding with fake sweetness, "I don't want you feeling like you have to share me with your father anymore, you know?"

Her heart raced as she waited for your response. Please say something nice, she prayed silently. Anything but that she's too old and useless... please...

Hearing your words, she let out a shaky breath. Okay, maybe there was hope after all. Maybe you weren't just using her to get closer to her father... or at least that's what she was going to tell herself from now on. She smiled up at you, forcing herself to sound light and affectionate. "Well, good then," she said brightly. "I'm glad we have that sorted out."

Brenda moved closer still, planting a soft kiss on your cheek before wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face in your neck. "Thank you for being so understanding," she murmured into your skin. "You really are the perfect husband for me." As she spoke, one of her hands crept lower until it was resting on your thigh, her fingers idly drumming against your denim-clad flesh.

Her inner turmoil continued to churn, but for now, at least the surface was calm. She needed to keep things this way... for as long as she could.

With a laugh that sounded more nervous than genuine, Brenda pulled away from you and straightened her dress. "You're right," she said quickly, trying to regain control of the situation. "Let's eat before it gets cold." She ushered you toward the table with an exaggeratedly graceful gesture before taking her seat across from you. As you served dinner onto your plates, she took a deep breath and tried to push aside her fears and insecurities for just a little while longer.

The meal passed in awkward silence, both of them focusing intently on their food as they tried not to think about the weight of their situation hanging over them. Brenda chewed slowly, methodically, wondering how long it would take for this strange new life to become something resembling normalcy... or if that was even possible.

Brenda forced a smile and nodded as she took another bite of her chicken. "Mmm, it's delicious," she lied. "You really did choose well." She reached for her water glass, taking a sip before setting it down with a quiet clink. The truth was that she didn't have much of an appetite anymore; her stomach was in knots from anxiety and fear.

"So," she said hesitantly, searching for something to talk about, "how was your trip?" She knew you hadn't been anywhere exotic or exciting; she had simply wanted to change the subject away from themselves and their predicament.

With her appetite long gone, Brenda shifted in her seat, tracing the pattern on the tablecloth with her finger. "Oh?" she prodded gently. "Did you see anything interesting while you were away? Or... anyone?" She smiled sweetly at him, but inside she felt a knot of jealousy tighten within her chest.

"Or maybe," she continued more confidently, leaning closer to him as if sharing a secret, "maybe I could take you on a real vacation sometime soon? A honeymoon, just the two of us?" She raised her eyebrows suggestively, hoping he wouldn't see through the façade.

Brenda smiled brightly at your words. "Good," she replied, obviously relieved. "Because I was thinking maybe we could go somewhere really special... like Tahiti or Bora Bora." She paused dramatically, letting the image of crystal blue water and white sandy beaches dance through her mind as if trying to will it into reality.

"What do you think? Would you like that?" she asked eagerly, leaning forward even further as she watched for your reaction.

With a triumphant grin, Brenda clapped her hands together. "Perfect! I knew we'd find something you'd like." She glanced at the clock, wondering if there was time to bring up some other ideas for their honeymoon before wrapping things up for the night. But as she thought about it, another thought occurred to her...

"Speaking of which," she began casually, "I think it's only fair that you give me your credit card tonight. You know, for emergencies and all." Her smile was innocent enough, but there was an unspoken demand behind those words. She needed control... always.