Page 383 of Phobia
“Um...he’s nice.” He wasn’t, but I could lie, too.
“And handsome, too,” she gushed like he was a shiny new trinket.
“He’s alright.” I took a sip from the glass that would be mine. He wasn’t my type. I already knew what I liked, and it was enigmatic and dangerous and went by the name of Bastien. MyBastien,just as I washislittle songbird.
“He would make a nice match for you, no?”
My throat spasmed, sucking wine down my windpipe. “What?” I sputtered.
“Shhh, they’ll hear us.” She lowered her voice and leaned in, her whispers tickling my ear like a fly buzzing too close. “You two would make beautiful children with all of that blond hair.”
“Children?” What the fuck was this woman raving on about?! I was one more gulp of wine away from locking her in the loony bin if she didn’t explain herself. “What are you saying?”
She tried desperately to contain her smile. “Jean agreed to come for dinner to meet you tonight. He is looking for a wife, and Papa told him about his beautiful daughter.” She combed her fingers through my curls.
“What the fuck?!” I whisper-yelled.
“Rosalie!” Maman gasped, horrified as if I had just told her that I didn’t believe in Christ. “Swearing is not tolerated in this house, young lady! Where did you even learn that word?”
When I had a bottle neck rammed into my pussy.
“Never mind,” I muttered. “Go back to the part about finding a wife.”
Maman let out a big sigh. “It’s time you start a new life, Rosalie.”
“But I like my life.” Okay, I didn’t. I would rather have lived anywhere but at home, but lately, things had been looking up. My nights with Bastien had given me something to look forward to, an escape from daily drudgery.
“It’s time, dear. You’re old enough to marry and start your own household.”
So, this was it. Tonight was about arranging my marriage? Papa hoped that he’d just plop this stranger into our lives and I’d magically want to spend the rest of my life with him after one meal? He must have started doing drugs in addition to alcohol because this was ludicrous.
“But I don’t want to get married!”At least not to a jerk like Jean.
Maman snatched my wrist and pulled me close, so my ear was pressed against her lips. “Rosalie, this is your way out. You marry this man, and you’ll never have to live in this house again.”
“Maman—”
“Don’t speak, just listen. You think I want this life for you? Living in fear every night that your Papa might go too far and kill you?”
Papa was mostly violent with Maman, but he wasn’t shy about throwing a fist my way, especially when I intercepted him to protect her.
“You’re my only child and I’d rather die than see you get hurt by the man who is supposed to care for you.”
My eyes watered. All this time, I had thought she was just putty for my father. Blinded by her love for him.
“You will leave this house forever, even if I have to die trying. I will make sure of it.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded subtly.
“Pénélope, the wine!” Father shouted from across the living area.
Maman pulled away from me and carried the tray of glasses to the table.
I overhead Papa apologizing to Jean. “Forgive me for the wait. These women need direction from time to time.”
Jean’s laugh cut through my emotional turmoil. “When the hens get distracted, it’s best to send in the cock to set them straight.” Papa’s laugh soon followed.
I downed the rest of my wine. I’d need seconds to get through tonight.
