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When the words pop up in my head, I can’t hold them back. I throw them at him like a knife.
“This marriage was a mistake.”
I watch as his face crumples, from confusion to pain. Good. That’s exactly what I wanted. Better this than telling him how I really feel. At least this way, I know exactly how he’ll react. And if I have the power to hurt him, maybe I mean something.
“Ellie, why would you say that? This is exactly what you wanted. What we wanted. You’re pregnant, and while it’s certainly been a rough start so far, that doesn’t mean that the entire pregnancy is going to be this way.”
“No. This isn’t about the pregnancy. It’s about being your wife. It’s stifling. Living in your royal shadow. It’s… it’s too much for me. I can’t go anywhere or do anything without feeling watched. I feel like I’m the child, needing permission, someone always knowing what I’m up to. I can’t live my life like a normal person.”
He opens his mouth, but closes it. It’s the look in his eyes that gets to me. Betrayal. Shock. Pain.
Cedrick did nothing to deserve this from me. He’s been nothing but kind this entire time, and here I am, trying to hurt him. This isn’t right.
As we stare at each other, I wonder if maybe he wouldn’t reject me. Could he feel the same way?
Maybe if I just told him that I’m starting to fall for him, it would all work out. Maybe I’m freaking out over nothing.
But I can’t make myself open my mouth. I can’t take the risk.
A weight settles over me, and I feel exhausted. Drained. I know that some of these emotions are probably from hormones, but I can’t stop them.
I don’t know what to do. And Cedrick doesn’t give me time to figure it out. Instead, he gives me one last look, turns around, and walks out.
Another wave of nausea takes over me, and one thought wraps itself around my brain as I wrap my arms around the trash can.
He doesn’t care.
23
CEDRICK
“Ithought you might appreciate some fresh air,” I call from the window to Ellie, lying on our bed.
I almost laugh at seeing such an unbecoming scowl come over such a beautiful face. I don’t know how she can get pissed off at the act of opening a window, though.
After the fight yesterday, though, I’m not sure I know what to expect from her at all anymore. It came out of nowhere.
I just want to start over and talk about it, but her demeanor has gotten more and more icy and distant.
She picks up a pillow and hugs it to her chest. “Thanks,” she mutters while looking away, avoiding eye contact.
“I didn't quite get that,” I say, approaching the bed.
“I’m cold.” Still no eye contact.
She throws the pillow off, gets up from the bed, and disappears into the bathroom with a loud bang of the door to mark her exit.
“Was it something I said?” I ask the empty room, still a little spooked.
I mean, we exchanged words yesterday, but that doesn't mean the same fight should continue to escalate even today. I walk up to the bathroom door and rap my fingers against it.
“Ellie?”
The toilet flushes on the other side, but she says nothing.
I lean my forehead against the wood. “I meant no harm. I shouldn't have assumed. I know you must be tired.”
My jaw clenches when I hear the tap run but there’s still no response. Maybe she was right yesterday. Maybe this was a mistake. But it’s too late to do anything now. Maybe it’s good that it’s only a year if this is her attitude.
