Page 36 of Twisted Love

“Punish you?” he snaps, his voice low and biting. He jerks his arm free from my grasp and stands. “I haven’t even started, my darling wife.”

“I never forgot about you,” I say, my voice trembling but firm. “I never stopped thinking about you—not even for a moment. I was hurt, furious that you left, that you disappeared without a word. And now, I want to be angry. I want to scream at you for breaking my heart into a million pieces. But I can’t even do that, because right now …” My throat tightens, the words catching, but I push through. “Right now, you seem more hurt and angry than I am. And I can’t help but wonder if something happened, if there was some kind of misunderstanding. Please, Earl. Talk to me. I’m sure we can resolve this.”

His eyes stay on me, unreadable, until I see cold anger spread across his face like a storm and his expression becomes hard. “Get out,” he says, his voice sharp, final. “You’ve overstayed your welcome.”

My body goes cold. I want to defy him, force him to tell me what I have done, but the sting of his total rejection cuts too deep. I force myself to stand, my movements stiff, every step away from him is like dragging weights behind me. “Fine,” I say, my voice brittle. “Keep tearing at me until you destroy me if that’s what you enjoy so much.”

I reach the door, but as my fingers brush the handle, his words stop me in my tracks.

“You’re not going to take your payment?”

Slowly, I turn, my gaze locking onto his. He is like a stranger. Not an ounce of the lover he was only a few moments ago remains.

“This is the second time,” I say, my voice steely. “I’m not a prostitute. I’m your wife.”

His lips curl into a smirk, cold and cruel. “You really want to act like this is a genuine marriage? I thought it was a transaction based on who had the most money. Isn’t that why you dumped Charles at the altar for me? Isn’t money all you’ve ever wanted? Isn’t it all you care about? So why pretend now?”

“I’m not pretending,” I say, turning around to face him.

“I get it. I’d do the same in your shoes. You want to find a way to be civil with me so your life will be easier. So you can have your cake and eat it. But no, darling, you don’t get to do that. Sure, I’m gonna be generous, in fact, outrageously generous. You’ll have everything you ever wanted. Clothes, shoes, designer bags. You’ll have it all. But in return, I want my pound of flesh. I want to see you live in your gilded cage and suffer. I want to see you rue the day you thought money could buy you happiness.”

“Seeing me suffer will give you pleasure?” I ask incredulously.

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes.”

I stare at him in shock. I cannot believe that this is the man I have just given all of myself to, but the worst part is no matter how hard I try, I cannot find it in myself to regret it. Maybe it’s because a part of me is hoping this cannot go on and he will come to his senses someday. Or maybe it’s because he hasn’t done anything unforgivable yet. Despite the complete hostility, he’s still ensured that my father has been taken care of. He’s kept his side of the bargain. I take in a deep breath and release it. For my father, I will bear everything, and so I even manage to work up the sliver of a smile.

“Okay,” I reply. “We’ll do as you wish. I will not remind you of the past again.”

He pulls open the drawer on the bedside table and it is stuffed full with money. Disdainfully, he grabs a handful of bills and holds them out to me. His eyes dare me not to disobey him.

Clearly, he wants a reaction, and I decide that I am going to give it to him. Perhaps the only way to make him just as miserable as he is making me is to ensure that I don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cower. I walk up to him.

Somehow I manage to work up a smile as I reach for the money. “Thank you. This is generous, but I hope you can do better next time.”

I turn around to leave. I expect him to call me back and stop me and make me pay for the way I have just spoken, but he doesn’t. It’s pure silence behind me as I make my way out. I know he’s watching my every move.

Once the door closes behind me, my shoulders slump. I return to my room and tuck the bills carefully into my kitty. I do not know what I will do yet, but someday, somehow I’ll make him understand that I am innocent of whatever he thinks I have done and I will make him apologize to me for this terrible injustice he is doing to me. For now, I need more than ever to make myself devoid of emotions and feelings because this is the only way I will be able to find my way through this nightmare.

“Just until Dad is well,” I console myself as I head to the bathroom. I need to wash him, us, the passion, the sweetness … the pain.

CHAPTER22

EARL

Istand there, fists clenched at my sides, watching her leave, head held high and clutching her towel like some kind of armor. The air in the room shifts and it feels like she’s stealing something I can’t name. She doesn’t glance back, and somehow that makes it worse.

And as the door clicks shut behind her, the sound final and hollow, I realize I don’t feel the triumph I should. Instead, there’s a gnawing ache in my chest, a void that only seems to grow the longer I stand here.

She’s beautiful. God, she’s beautiful in a way that makes me want to rip her apart just to see the flaws I am so sure that she is so cleverly hiding deep inside her. And that thought makes me want to lash out, to hurt her before she can hurt me again. And I know exactly why it is like this. Why every time she makes me feel good, I have to tear it down. Why every time she softens the edges of my anger, I sharpen it against her. Why then does it hurt me to hurt her? When I know with every fiber of my being that she deserves it. That I am getting the revenge that I wanted.

I hate her. Don’t I?

But the truth? The truth is I don’t know anymore.

She makes me question everything. My anger. My hatred. Myself. And the worst part? She doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.

I drag a hand down my face, trying to shake the weight of it all. My legs feel heavy as I move toward the bed, the sheets still carrying her scent, her warmth.

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