Page 14 of The Sound of Silence

Have I ever felt cherished by him?

Not really. If I were honest with myself, I’d never felt truly respected or valued. Ethan had always doted on me in a placating way—like a child who was given a present for behaving.

I felt his hand come up to touch my shoulder. It was strange—a part of me longed for his gentle touch, but another part of me wanted to recoil from the contact.

“Come on, Gia. I don’t like to see my girl all worked up over nothing. You know I’m the brains in the house. We both know that.”

My eyes widened, and I spun to face him once again.

“You’re the brains? Why? Because you have an expensive college degree, and I don’t?” I snapped. “I wanted to go to college! You pushed me into the role of the police chief’s wife, with me on your arm for various functions and photo ops. You convinced me of the demands and talked me into staying home to take care of the house. Don’t you dare try to make me feel insignificant. I did exactly as you asked me to do!”

My lack of a college degree had always been a sore spot. It was something I yearned for—a longing deep in my belly that always seemed out of reach. Saying those words aloud made me realize what I had slowly become—a kept woman, the very thing I’d once told a stranger I didn’t want to be. I pushed away the memories of a conversation from years long past and took a deep breath, unsure if I was overreacting.

“Honey, you aren’t insignificant. You do a good job. The house looks great. Well, most of the time.”

I stared at him and processed the negging comment. That was just his way—backhanded compliments that never ceased to make my confidence waver and make me worry if I was a good wife. I was tired of being spoken to that way, tired of being made to feel small. Still, I was too exhausted to fight, and we’d been doing so much of it lately. Sometimes, letting him go to wherever it was he went in the evenings was just easier.

Tonight, processing the implications of being pregnant, was one of those nights. If he had to go, so be it. Arguing with him rarely got me anywhere, and I’d learned to pick my battles long ago. Besides, if there was one thing I knew about being the wife of a police officer, it was that life was short. You never knew what could happen in the line of duty. If something had happened to him while we were on the outs, I’d never forgive myself.

Glancing down at the black sport coat he’d tossed over the arm of the sofa, I picked it up and moved to hand it to him. I intended to apologize for losing my temper but stopped short when a whiff of sweet-smelling perfume filled my nose. Raising the jacket to my face, I inhaled.

Roses.

It smelled like jasmine and roses.

I crinkled my nose in disgust, certain it wasn’t the scent of any perfume I would wear. When my eyes found his, there was a curious expression on his face as if he knew what I was thinking before I even said it.

“Don’t go there, Gia. Just don’t,” he warned.

All the emotions from the past year seemed to well up inside me. I was always so quick to roll over—to be the peacemaker. And for what? Didn’t I deserve better?

I felt something inside me snap. I wouldn’t be dismissed anymore. He needed to stop treating me as nothing more than an afterthought. I was pregnant, and we should be celebrating together as husband and wife. I was owed an explanation for why he’d turned so cold—for why his jacket smelled like another woman. Unable to hold back the hurt any longer, I exploded, the questions and demands pouring from my mouth before I could even think twice.

“Don’t go where? Don’t go after the truth? Tell me now, damn you! Who is she?”

He shook his head, almost as if he were resigning himself to the situation. When he fixed his eyes on me, his expression was as hard and cold as granite.

“She’s an attorney—a prosecutor for the City of Cincinnati. Her name is Cynthia. There. Are you happy now?”

My eyes widened, unable to believe what I was hearing. I wanted him to deny it. No… Ibelievedhe would deny it. I thought he would tell me I was imagining things. Never did I expect him to admit it the very first time I asked. The sport coat slipped from my fingers and fell into a crumpled heap on the floor. Instinctively, I dropped my arms to my sides and balled my hands into fists, white-hot fury burning deep in my belly.

“No, I’m not happy!” I hissed through gritted teeth.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you then. You asked for the truth, and against my better judgement, I gave it to you.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal.

“How could you do this to me?” I asked, my voice cracking as it raised to a dangerously high pitch.

“There are things I need,” he said calmly. “Cynthia gives them to me.”

I brought a hand to my mouth and shook my head. Angry tears stung my eyes and I blinked them back.

“You bastard! I love you! I’m your wife, and I deserve better than this!” I pointed my finger and jabbed him hard in the shoulder. Without warning, he grabbed my wrist and twisted it back so far, I yelped in pain. His dark brown eyes darkened until they were almost black.

“I don’t understand what you want from me, Gia. I’ve given you everything. You have the house you wanted, money to spend, and a closet full of brand-new clothes you barely wear. Most women would love to be in your position.”

I didn’t dare tell him that I didn’t want all the clothes. They were clothes he’d picked out as though I was his own personal Barbie doll. The clothes weren’t even my style. Instead, I jerked my hand away and stepped back.

“Do you know what I want, Ethan? I want a husband—a real husband. I want someone who wants me to be his equal partner. I want to be truly loved. Cherished. I don’t want some lying, cheating son of a bitch! And that’s exactly what you are!”

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