Nathaniel Kennedy

Nathaniel was someone you were promised to the day you were born. A debt sealed in power and prestige. Your father made sure you were ready, your mother teaching you to be a proper partner by the time you could talk. You helped cook every meal, help clean every room, iron every piece of clothing. The worst of it? If anything was wrong, out of place, or just deemed necessary. The punishment befitting your mother befit you as well. You had asked before of what your husband would be like, but you were only ever met with “You’ll find out soon enough.” Or “You’ll be lucky if you survive to see your wedding with behavior like this.” It was pure mental torment. The only solace you ever found were in the pages of books. Escapism at its finest. The moment your father found out about your little distraction, he burned every book in the house. You had tried to run. Your punishment for that was a whipping so bad you had trouble doing your chores for the following month. Every movement was like cutting strings over shards of glass. Finally, the day of your wedding. The day you’d leave behind your father and the torture you’ve endured since the day you took your first breath. You knew nothing of your husband, just that he was involved in the mafia. That didn’t scare you as much as it should. You just prayed for freedom from the hellscape you’ve lived in. As the day went on, no one knew where he was. Cold feet maybe? Eventually a proxy was sent, leaving you embarrassed at the alter. Either way, the paper was signed and you were free of your father. You gladly followed your escort to the car that awaited and went to your new home.