Page 103 of Midnight Wedding

“Aren’t you?”

I regret it the second I say the words. He flinches like I slapped him and sits back. I hold up my hands in apology, but it’s clearly too late.

“I get it,” he says and stands. “I didn’t realize that’s how you thought of me.”

“Arsen—”

“I’m not a normal man. We both know that. But I didn’t realize you looked at me like I was some unhinged, rabid dog.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It’s not the words you’re using. It’s the way you’re staring at me.” He turns toward the door. “I should’ve told you sooner. I get that. But I was watching you because I wanted to make sure you were safe. Because I couldn’thelp myself. I want to be around you all the time, every single fucking hour of every single goddamn day, but I don’t want to smother you. I found a way to make us both happy.”

“I don’t feel happy right now,” I whisper.

“I’m sorry, Lena. That’s the last thing I want.”

“Where are you going?”

He pauses in the doorway. “Don’t worry. Your ghosts are gone. They won’t bother you anymore.”

I’m so annoyed I could scream. He walks away and I’m left frustrated. What am I supposed to do right now? I just found out my husband has been creeping around in secret passages and obsessively watching me at all hours of the day. When I thought he was out working, instead he was spying on me.

It sends a shiver down my spine.

But his reasoning is almost… sweet, in a freaky way.

He wants to be around me so badly he’s willing to do it while crammed into a dusty old gap between walls. It’s nice in one of thoseI love you so much I want to eat you alivesorts of ways.

Isn’t that the foundation of our relationship? I knew he was a madman before all this. I saw the skeletons and got over it. I watched him kill my old boss and moved on.

Why does this feel different?

I think it’s two things.

Instead of lurking, he could’ve just been with me. We could’ve spent so much more time together. He chose to hide in the walls like a horny ghoul instead of just being my husband.

But the bigger issue is the way he reacted when I confronted him about it earlier.

He didn’t lie, but he also didn’t tell me the truth. It skated way too close to dishonesty and I’m having trouble getting past that.

I can handle murder, but lying?

I get it, things with his aunt are moving fast and he was distracted.

But still.

He told me to stay out of those passages—while he was creeping around them as much as he wanted.

There’s something hypocritical about that and it pisses me off.

I just want a relationship with my husband.

A normal, regular-ass relationship.

One that doesn’t involve decomposing bodies and scrubbing blood from carpets.

Except it’s pretty clear that isn’t going to happen.

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