Page 52 of The Revenge Plan

I got up to my knees on the bed, grabbed my phone that was on the bedside table and crawled forward. “It’s true! You can look through my phone if you think I’m lying,” I shoved the phone at him. He was stiff as a statue. He flinched a little, then grabbed the phone. We made a few swipes. Then he swiped a few more times.

“You could have deleted them,” he said, handing me the phone back.

“I didn’t! I sent him a couple of images! ”

“Doesn’t matter. You still betrayed me.”

“That’s because I was being blackmailed!”

“By your own family? You want me to believe that?”

“It’s true. I wouldn’t have done so if it wasn’t the case.” I took in a deep breath. Everything was going wrong. The night wasn’t supposed to go like this. “My father threatened to sell the house my mother left me if I didn’t do as he said”

“That’s it?”

“It’s the only thing of hers she left for me.”

He simmered down. “How’s he able to do that?”

“It’s tied up in the family trust and he basically influenced the executor of my mother’s will to not give it to me.”

“Why would a father do that to his own daughter.”

“He thinks I killed her, remember? He even used it to blackmail me into marrying you.”

He kept glaring at me with that stony stare. He didn’t look like he believed me.

“How do I know that this isn’t one more lie? You lie so much it’s difficult to keep track.”

He was right. I was a liar. I had gotten so used to lying that it was easy for me. But how could I let him see I wasn’t lying now? There were other lies, but those were good lies. Lies I told to keep my pride and dignity.

“Please believe me.” There was nothing more I could say.

He galvanized into action and strode forward until he was standing at the edge of the bed mere inches away from me. “How can I?” he said.

There seemed to be no way of convincing him. I could only think of one way, and that was to show him. Before I could dissuade myself, I grabbed his collar and kissed him. He was so caught by surprise he didn’t react for a second. I brushed my lips over his, coaxing him with my tongue. I could feel all of his anger vibrating. He was like a storm raging. His body was taut when I grabbed on to him for support. He broke the kiss. His eyes raked over my face. “You’re a fucking liar.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I thought he was about to reject me when he leaned in again and kissed me. His kiss was punishing. I bent into it, accepting whatever he had planned for me. He devoured me.

“You fuck me up,” he whispered against my mouth.

“I’m sorry for betraying you.” He tilted backwards. Then pressed his index finger on my lips.

“Don’t lie to me. Not now at least.” He replaced the finger with his mouth and pushed me onto the bed. The sex was more hungry and desperate. It was as if Caiden wanted to exorcise some demons.

He lifted me off the bed and carried me to the window. He ripped my lingerie and had me against the window. Then again, on the floor. Then again on the bed. By then, my muscles were limb. We both laid on the bed for a long time, exhausted from the passionate session. As soon as he was done, he turned back to his cold self. I didn’t know what else to say to him except to just lie there. After a while, Caiden got out of the bed and went over to his briefcase. He took something out and came back with it.

“I got something for you,” he said, “happy birthday,” and placed a rectangular velvet box onto my stomach. With that, he left and went to the bathroom. A few moments later, I heard the shower being turned on. It was an odd feeling I was having. As if I had both been accepted and rejected. It didn’t feel good. His lack of warmth afterward was making me feel less and less welcome in his room. So I grabbed the box, my clothes and tip-toed out. I still couldn’t explain what had happened between us.

The sex had been wonderful, yes, but it differed from last time. He was there, but he was detached. There was a part of him that had been briefly opened and was now closed off.

I squeezed the box I had been holding. I opened it. In it was a beautiful tennis bracelet. The piece mocked me. He had been the only person who had remembered my birthday. I hadn’t expected him to. I stared at the bracelet again. Had he been thinking of turning our relationship into something real? No. I was only fooling myself with that line of thinking.

The next morning, we were back in the same routine. The old routine of not speaking to each other. Except this time he had made breakfast and left me some. It could have been by accident, of course. But he did this for the next week. Each morning he would leave the apartment before me after making breakfast for two. Then he would come back from work later than me and we would get into an intense lovemaking session. At first we kept to his bedroom, but we soon moved to other parts of the apartment. We rarely talked, if at all. Gone was the warm and gentle person I had briefly known.

30

Igot home, itching to confront her for real this time. The only problem was that each time I saw her, it was better to fuck her instead. I enjoyed it that way. She did too. The way she would come apart in my arms was so beautiful to watch I wanted to experience it every time I was with her.

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