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Different Choices, Different Lives

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   Twirling the glass in her hand, Gina strolled aimlessly through the room, sidestepping the other women who were lounging around, the ice clinking against the side of her drink. Her feet were aching from standing so long in her heels, yet she made her way over to the window.

   Staring down into the main yard, she watched the bustle of people below. Most were on guard duty, watching the horizon for signs of life, or the nonliving.

   Every day felt like Groundhog Day since she had arrived, and she wondered what the approaching evening held. Once he came into the compound, she could get a feel for how the day had gone. As she leaned her forehead against the glass, she could hear the rumble of the oncoming caravan.   

  Downing the whiskey that was rapidly becoming watery, she watched as the trucks pulled through the gates. Gina waited until he stepped out, and studied his demeanor as he ordered his men around. With a sigh, she set the glass on the bar, and wandered over to the couch, to take her place next to Sherry.

   Sherry leaned in and spoke in a low voice, so that none of the other women could hear. "Well?" she asked. With a sidelong glance she muttered only one word. "Lexie."

   No more than five minutes passed before the door opened. He stood there appraisingly as the women seemed to snap to attention. Some looked apprehensive, while others looked hopeful. Only she and Sherry carried neutral looks on their faces. After flashing a wicked grin, he walked through the room, kissing each of them on the cheek, until he got to Lexie.

   Extending his hand, he helped her up, wrapping his arm around her waist as he led her towards the door. Lexie's hips swayed back and forth as his hand made it's way towards her backside, and she quickened her pace towards the inevitable.

   After the door closed, many of the women slumped back into the couches, and there was both relief and disappointment throughout the room. Gina felt nothing, and Sherry took her by the hand as they headed back over towards the bar. As they were freshening their drinks, the other women began to make their way towards their room, the waiting game over.

   Perching on the stools, the two women clinked their glasses together, before taking a long drink. Legs crossed, Sherry turned towards her, a smirk on her face.

   "How do you always know which one of us he's going to take?" she asked, her eyes curious. Gina shrugged as she tapped a cigarette out of the gold case that the two shared.

   "I can just tell by his demeanor. When his day goes well, and he's fired up, he always goes for Lexie. When he's frustrated, he gravitates towards Amber. When he's feeling straight up horny, its always Leticia. And you know why he takes you when he does."

   Sherry's face dropped as she considered her words. "You know I don't mean to hurt your feelings," Gina said in a soft voice. "He wants to punish Dwight for something. Usually some imagined slight or insubordination."

   Knodding her head, Sherry took a drag off of her cigarette. "I know," she sighed. "I guess it was a good day for Dwight."

   The ticking of the clock marked the passage of time while they drank. "And why does he pick you?" Sherry asked as Gina shifted uncomfortably on her seat. She ran her tongue along her teeth, swirling her drink around again.

   "He picks me when he's had a setback, or is feeling vunerable. I don't know why."

   Sherry's eyebrows raised, but she said nothing. When they finished their drinks, they stood, walking out of the room into the hallway. The two could hear faint sounds of Lexie moaning as they walked down the hall, their heels clicking on the floor. Their rooms were across the hall from each other, and they hugged before saying their goodnights.

   After closing her door, Gina flipped on the light before shrugging out of her dress. Kicking off her heels, she rummaged around in her drawer for her shorts and tank top, her standard sleeping outfit when she wasn't in rotation.

   Padding into her private bathroom, she washed the garish makeup off of her face after pulling her hair up into a haphazard bun. When she was done, she walked back into the bedroom, pulling the covers down and sliding into bed.

   She hated everything about her room, and she stared at it with detest. The decor was the complete opposite of anything that she would have picked in her old life. She was given no choice, as he always decided who stayed in which room. It was entirely too girly and prissy for her taste. Everything was pink, cream, and sparkly. It was fit for a princess who was locked away in an ivory tower, which she supposed she was.

   She had made the choice to become one of his wives, and she had to live with it. Had she known then what she knew now, she would have chosen differently. But when she saw for the first time what happened when Negan was disappointed in his wives, she knew that she was trapped.

   Closing her eyes, she wondered what kind of mood he would be in tomorrow.