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“Don’t you get tired of listening to this shit and doing that? It seriously looks tedious,” Daimon commented.
“It’s once a year,” I said, annoyed. “What, Mommy dearest didn’t celebrate Christmas with you?” I taunted.
I waited for Daimon’s usual banter, but when he didn’t say anything, I looked back to see him sitting on his couch, his arm laid across the top, while Drako had curled up near his lap. Daimon’s sky-blue eyes turned cold as he narrowed them at me.
“Not all mothers were like yours,” he said coldly.
He then stood, making his way to the kitchen. Wow, did the cold front just hit inside? I watched as Daimon took out a long-stem wine glass and began pouring himself a dark merlot.
“Come on, Daimon. You can’t actually make me believe you had a hard life,” I teased again. Daimon ignored me and focused on drinking his wine.
“You were born with a platinum spoon in your mouth, so whatever is bugging you, I highly doubt it was that bad,” I laughed. He placed his glass down and peered at me, through his now glacier eyes.
“You think because your mother died it gives you the right to be pitied. You act like you’re the only one who’s had such a tragic life. I honestly wonder, Addie, who you would be if you didn’t use it as a crutch. At times, I’m not going to lie, you look downright pathetic,” he spat out. His venomous words spread through me like a poison.
“You’re right. I do use it as a crutch. However, I’m not like you. I say it when I’m hurt, while you hide behind your eloquent ways of destroying a person. I might look pathetic in your eyes, but to me, you’re worthless. You think your money can buy you everything you want. Well, it can’t!” I snapped.
“It bought me you,” he said maliciously.
“I know, but I at least have a family, unlike you who seems to hate his,” I said menacingly.
“Do you think your family actually loves you after what you did?” he smirked. His grin was evil at best. “I mean, come on, think about it, not only do you claim to have killed your mother, you sell yourself to the highest bidder. What family could love someone like that?” he sneered.
I stopped myself from going any further. This was the angry Daimon, the hateful one, the one who lashes out, wanting others to feel pain, not caring how far he had to go to do it.
“Do you feel better?” I asked coldly.
“What?” he asked, confused.
“I’m asking you if you feel better. Does it make you feel like a man to completely destroy another? Does it somehow make you feel whole? You go at me like I’m nothing but a fucking punching bag. Yes, you bought me so I guess you have some sort of right to do what you like. But I was just wondering how it makes you feel to do this?” I asked him honestly.
I gently put down the clear globe I had in my hands and I waited, feeling like I had been through a firing squad.
“I put up a Christmas tree for a lot of reasons but mainly because it was the very last thing I ever did with my mother. She and I would buy one together and decorate it. It’s the very last happy memory I have. I’m sorry if my need for this brought out something that obviously is fucked up in you.” I bit the inside of my lip and headed upstairs, but stopped at the very first step. “I really don’t get you. I think you’re an asshole most of the time, but then you do something like this.” I pointed to the tree. “And I think, wow he has a kindness about him. But you always find a way to just fuck it all up, Daimon-style,” I barked and left.
I stepped out of the bathroom ready for bed. The enigma that was Daimon was someone I didn’t think I would ever understand. He could be thoughtful and understanding, but he could be cruel and hateful. His words, even though I tried desperately to wash away, lingered inside my mind. I lay down onto the bed and pulled back the duvet. It had been a month since I married Daimon and I was already exhausted by him. The thought of three years was enough to make me want to give up and sever the contract.
The moment Daimon walked into the bedroom I turned my body to face the window next to me. I could barely feel the bed dip as he sat down.
“I’m sorry,” he said ruefully. “Christmas isn’t easy for me.”
“Well, it isn’t easy for me either,” I said softly.
I was startled the moment Daimon’s arm wrapped itself around me.
“I’m not going to bite,” he said flatly.
