Page 57 of Souls and Sorrows

With that, she slips past me and heads for the glass door, leaving me standing in place, trying to remember if that is the first time she’s used my name in conversation.

And wondering why it makes me so uncomfortable that she did, more so than her telling me she wants to murder me.

Then again, would she ever come out and admit that, or was she fishing for my own intentions?

Shedidask me first.

Shaking it off, I follow into the building after her and find her standing just inside the threshold. The room is probably smaller than what she’s used to rehearsing in, but it’s a standard size for most modern dance corps and better than the run-down theater she’s been using.

Mirrors line the entire back wall, and there’s a hall leading to a restroom, changing area, and storage. The pink floral wallpaper is chipped in some corners, and there are a few spots on the ceiling with obvious water damage, but overall, it’s not a bad setup.

At least,Idon’t think it is. The look on Ariana’s face has me questioning my decision though.

“A dance studio?”

Adjusting my glasses, I hook my hands into my pants pockets and rock back on my heels. “Why not? It’s quiet, secluded. Across the street from my office.”

Her brows shoot to her hairline, and she twists around, looking out the front windows. Turning back toward me, she glances down at the key in her hand. “I don’t… I don’t understand why you’re showing me this. What’s wrong with the theater?”

Accusation drips off her words, and I tread carefully, aware that her defensive walls sliding into place are the exact opposite of what I need right now.

“There’s nothingwrongwith it. But it’s not well equipped for a dancer of your caliber.”

“How would you know what kind of a dancer I am?”

I frown. “Isawyou. You’re…”

Incredible. Unfathomable. Mesmerizing.

The adjectives form on the tip of my tongue, but when I try to voice them, it’s like they have been glued on and refuse to move.

Ariana shakes her head. “I’m rusty and out of practice. That wasn’t the real me. I’m… I quit because of an injury, remember?”

“Well, if that’s true, then I think it’s clear you’ve healed. Still, out of practice or not, you’re far too talented to be hiding your passion in some eroding building.”

She swallows, staring at her reflection in the mirror. “So, what? You bought this so I’d be a good little wife and do whatever you tell me to do?”

A chuckle catches in my throat, and I shrug. “Unless I bought a muzzle and tied you to my bed, I would never expect you to begood. Even then, I’m sure you’d draw blood. I think you get off on being deviant.”

Her eyes cut to mine, narrowing.

My patience fades quickly, her immediate distrust rubbing me the wrong way. Not an ounce of fucking gratitude bleeds from her, and considering the lengths I’ve gone to up to this point to make this marriage palatable for her, I find her disdain obnoxious.

“Look,” I say, gesturing with outstretched arms at the room, “I don’t give a shit what you do with it. Teach classes, dance, host fucking tea parties. I didn’t purchase this so you’d do my bidding. If I wanted a doll to dress up and play with, I’m sure I wouldn’t have had to pay nearly as much as I did for you.”

“Then, what—”

“You’re not a prisoner, and you’re not some empty vessel I keep around to stick my dick in.” I smother a grimace at the term since I haven’t even done that. “As my wife, you’re my partner, and I want to see you doing something with your time that doesn’t involve sneaking around and lying to me.”

“I’m not a little kid,” she snaps, her eyes darkening. “You don’t have to talk to me like I’m in trouble.”

“Oh, but youare, Little Nightmare.” I take three steps, closing the distance between us, and grab her wrist, pulling her hand up so it’s caught in our line of sight. Pinching the ring, I start to pull it off, relishing in the way she sucks in a gasp of air as the band slices into her skin. “You’re in trouble, and if you want to be spoken to like an adult, maybe you should try acting like one.”

She yanks away, shoving at my chest. Murder ignites in her gaze, and I want to reach out and draw her to me becausethisis the woman I married. The one with fire raging in her soul, ready to burn down anything that stands in her way.

Not the bored, complacent girl who’s been taking up residence in my bed every night.

This feels like the first normal day we’ve had in weeks.

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