Page 60 of Downfall

“Sometimes.”

“Would he buy you jewellery after one of your fights? Was that his way of apologising?” He asks.

I gulp. That’s close to the line. Too close. “Sometimes.” My voice sounds unsure, nervy.

“So he’d hurt you physically then buy your silence with jewels?” He says simply, no accusation, no judgement, as if it’s a stated fact already.

My eyes widen. I stupidly look over at Darius who is leant forward, with a face that says everything. He set this up. He did this. For some reason he’s decided to expose Paris in death as the monster he was but why? What does he get out of this? What possible reason would he want to blemish the Blumenfeld name for me?

“I…” I stammer then fall silent. There’s a power play here beyond my understanding but I need to figure it out and fast.

“He bought you a twenty carat diamond necklace days after you were seen with bruising on your cheekbone. That wasn’t a coincidence was it?”

I shut my eyes, my stomach twisting as this whole situation gets more out of control. I tried really hard to hide that injury. I stayed inside for almost an entire week while the swelling went down.

“Why did you not leave him? You have means, clearly you have a supportive family.” The coroner says looking over at my father who’s shooting daggers back.

“I couldn’t leave.” I whisper.

“Why not?” He asks gently, reasonably, as if the act were a simple thing.

“I just couldn’t.” My voice breaks. It takes everything in me not to cry then but I won’t. I won’t let these vultures see me like that. I won’t let the papers print an image of my tear stained face for everyone to leer at.

“Was that what your argument was about that day? Did you want to leave and he wouldn’t let you?”

I shake my head. Would it be easier if that was the truth? Maybe in some ways.

“Did you ever ask him for a divorce Ms. Capulet?”

“No.”

The room reacts to that. To the fact that I never made such a demand. And then my pride gets the better of me, that old Capulet streak because I’ll be damned if they all think I was content to take his punches. “He wouldn’t have agreed. If I’d asked it would only have made everything worse.” I say.

“So you did want to leave him?” The coroner replies.

I shrug. “He was my husband. I married him. For better or for worse right?” I know it makes no sense. I know I should just admit it but I can’t. I’m not going to show them what I really am, that I’ve been essentially as good as a prisoner for the last five years. My pride won’t let me. I refuse to be looked at with sympathy. I refuse to be thought of in that way.

There’s a moment of silence as if he’s processing what I’m saying.

“Did he ever threaten to kill you? Did he ever threaten to harm you if you left?”

I don’t reply to that. No, he never said those words but that’s because we both knew I wasn’t going anywhere. That in the end he could hurt me as much as he wanted but I couldn’t leave, my family would never have let me.

“Did you ever fight back?” He asks.

“Whenever I did he would just hit me harder.” The words slip out before I can stop them.

The room gasps and I do too. My admittance hangs about me and I stare wildly across at Darius but he doesn’t look angry. If anything he seems pleased. What game is he playing? Why is he so intent on letting everyone know what was really going on in my marriage?

The coroner asks a few more questions. About the truck. About the events after but when it’s clear I don’t remember anything he lets me get down.

I walk back to my seat, my legs shaking and my eyes focused on the floor. But I can hear the murmurs and I can feel it too, the looks of sympathy. I sink back into my seat and Darius takes my hand squeezing it gently.

“You did good.” He says quietly.

“Did I?” I whisper back. I know my family certainly won’t agree with that. My father is going to be furious.

He pulls me in, wrapping his arms around me. “I’ll protect you Rose. From all of them.” He says and those words are enough to break me. To crack the façade entirely and despite myself, despite my determination not to, the tears fall, silently streaking down my face and I feel the camera’s instantly snapping away, taking every advantage of my moment of weakness.

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