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“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean no. It will have to wait until tomorrow.”
“It can’t,” I say. My head is spinning, and I know I should have a better argument here, but I don’t. What am I going to say?
“If it can’t wait until tomorrow, that means it’s an emergency. Is it an emergency?”
“But Antonio is here! He can come with me. I don’t want to go alone. You can send the entire house staff with me if you want.”
“You’re not going anywhere without me.”
“Enzo, please,” I beg, my eyes stinging with tears.
“My final answer is no.”
The line goes silent, and I stare at the phone. Disconnected.
He hung up on me like a child. He kidnapped me. Forced me to marry him. Now he’s hanging up on me?
I’m going to have this man’s child and he just hangs up on me!
No way! Absolutely not.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
He’s only trying to protect me. To keep me safe.
Think rationally.
No, fuck him!
What is he keeping me safe from? There’s nothing out there! I call him back.
“The answer is still no.”
“Enzo, it’s important,” I plead.
“It isn’t an emergency. It can wait until tomorrow. I’ll see you when I get home, and I will take you wherever you need to go first thing in the morning.”
It’s quiet, but he doesn’t hang up on me this time. That makes me feel a little better.
“Okay,” I relent, knowing I’m not getting anywhere with this. And really, this can wait until tomorrow. It isn’t an emergency. What’s one more night of panicking? Nothing compared to all the nights I’ve already done it.
“Thank you, angel.” A wave of guilt washes over me when I hear how relieved he sounds. He is worried about my safety. Is that something I should be concerned about? Should I be arguing with him about that instead? “See you soon.”
I end the call, drop my phone to the floor, and sink to the floor too. I lie down on the rug and stare at the ceiling. I stay in this same position until the staff come in to gather my things. A few ask if I’m okay, but I don’t answer. Bernice, in the background, tells them to ignore my attention-seeking ways and do their jobs.
I hate her.
I really fucking hate her.
The woman has had a stick shoved up her ass since the day I got here. I don’t know, maybe she’s always been like that, but I see the way she talks to everyone around here. Always putting them down like she’s in charge, like she’s better, but when it comes to me? It’s worse. She talks to me like I’m a diseased stray cat Enzo picked up off the street to try and save. It’s ridiculous. I’m not a fucking stray cat. I’m Enzo’s wife!
I push myself up and stare right into her beady, ugly eyes. She’s inside the doorway of my room, as if she wouldn’t dare to step into this room more than she has to.
“I don’t like you,” I say.
She huffs out a laugh. “A lion doesn’t lose sleep over the opinion of sheep,” she responds, holding her chin higher.
