Page 69 of Antiletum
Out of nowhere, it’s dreadfully cold on this summer night. Or perhaps that’s just the ice of Delaney’s anger, churning my blood into a likeness of hers. “You’re angry?” I ask, unable to hide my disbelief.
“Obviously, I am angry! I deserve to know where she rests!”
She pushes my chest again. Harder. I stumble backward, trying to catch up with my own incorrect perceptions of how this conversation may end.
“Where is she?” Delaney’s stare goes wide, horrified. “Deos! Did you dispose of her like a common criminal? Did you dump her in the sewers? Chop her up and scatter her about?”
“What? No! Of course not. How could you think—”
Delaney laughs, high and cold and entirely unamused.
I must say, that pretty little chime says all Delaney would ever need to without a single word at all. And the mocking noise isn’t exactly off the mark.
I close my eyes tight. Take a deep breath. Open them again. “She’s not here,” I say quietly, placing my hands on Delaney’s hot, soft shoulders. Stroke my thumbs over her skin. “She is somewhere secure. With dignity. Being preserved. So we maybring her back.” I don’t mean to hiss the way I do, but alas. Here we are.
The thrill of my wife’s affections are melting away, scorching into ugly remnants of the moment we had. In its empty wake is the disbelief that she still doesn’tsee. At first it made sense. I understood. Much was brought to light in the days before our marriage was sanctioned.
But now, months later…
Delaney’s excuses are running dry. Each of her blatant refusals to acknowledge what’s right in front of her is becoming downright agonizing. Offensive at this point. I’ve been waiting for it. Since the moment she laid eyes on me on our wedding night.
“I thought you were accepting me,” I admit with unmasked hurt, buried beneath tones of impatience. “You kissed me. You moved for it just as much as I did. You asked me formore.”
“I will never accept you, Valledyn.” Delaney’s voice wavers. But still, she hasn’t tried to escape my hold. She doesn’t stop me as I step justa little closer, craving the warmth of her skin against mine. Trying to get another sample. Anything that she will give.
“Are you really so fucking blind?” I ask quietly through my teeth, my jaw so tense it hurts. My vision is becoming hazy, this steady ache in my chest that’s been ever present since I woke alone after our wedding night prying itself farther across my being, opening me wide so all my remaining substance might fall at her feet.
“Not anymore,” Delaney says, nice and close to my face. Nearly close enough for us to share another kiss before she finally pulls away from my grasp. “You continuously show me not to care for anything. You’ll only take it away.”
“You care for me.”
“No, I don’t.”
I step forward, finger pointed towards her accusingly. “Yes, you fucking do. You showed me time and again, Delaney. You care for me just as deeply as I do you. Before I left to meet with Parliament, you were starting to let me in. And you wanted to. You loved it when I took care of you. You loved it when I demanded we spend time together and when I told you what to wear. You loved giving me your attention and receiving mine in turn.You love me. You said it yourself tonight. You gave me those words, and I’m keeping them. You can’t have them back. They aremine. Just like you. It doesn’t matter what form I’m in or whatever else you want to see. This is real. And you can’t hide from it.”
“You tricked me!” she screams, the bounce of her lovely voice swallowed by leaves clinging to the trees.
“And I could argue thatyouare tricking me, Delaney. You know exactly how I feel. And you keep dangling little bits of hope in my face just to snatch it away and watch me burn a little more for you.” I hold my empty fingers pinched above her forehead, motioning how it feelsto me when she teases me with these tiny morsels of herself to then only tell me I cannot have it all.
“Why do you care?” she yells, exasperated, throwing her hands up in the air.
I want to grab her shoulders, shake them until the veil of denial falls from her eyes. Scream in her face. Run to my chambers and grab that little gold fucking clasp, dahlias smooth and worn away from years of being used as a crutch. Shove it in her own hand.
But even if I did, I’m certain she would just ignore that too.
“You want to know why I care?” My eyes narrow, watching her reaction intently.
The coldness of my tone has Delaney’s pupils dilating, blossoming out into a pool of ink that I could swim in. Drown in.
“Beyond the fact thatyou are my wife, I know you, Delaney. I know that you’re afraid. You’re tired. Lonely. Youlongto be seen and accepted. To have your place. But you’ve spent so many years being told by the people who should have loved and uplifted you that you don’t deserve those things. Now that you have exactlywhat you need in your grasp, you don’t know what to do with it. So you take just enough of what I offer to sustain yourself, to feel good, then go hide back behind your pretty glass walls that you think will keep you from getting hurt. Leaving me to drain myself dry in the hope that eventually you’re going to get exactly what you think you want. Keep going,ocellus. It’s okay. I can take it.For you, I will take it.”
Delaney’s mouth has dropped wide. Face gone pale. Sickly. Like I’ve just flayed her alive. Laid her bare in front of a mirror, forced her to take a long, hard look, and she doesn’t at all like what she sees. The other gift I left her tonight that I’m certain she hasn’t found yet was the beginning of this reckoning, but I think she needs the words too.Maybe they will help drive my point home when she finds the painting in her room.
I know these things about her because they exist within myself. We are alike. Kindred in every way. Meant to fucking be.
Wetness glosses over her gaze, but her tears don’t fall and more than anything I just want to cradle my wife in my arms. Carry her to our bed. Hold her. Stroke her hair, her back. Let her rest. Stop this fighting.
“And what do I want, Val? Since you know me so fucking well.”
