Page 69 of Lilies from Hell

“What if it was a girl?” I whisper, unable to look him in the eye. For some strange reason, that seems to piss him off even more, but it’s too late to regret what I said when his warm breath hits my shoulder as he speaks.

“I don’t care what that person has between their legs. You’re mine, and therefore it’s my duty to shower you with gifts. No one else’s.” Him being so close makes it really difficult for me to remember what he just said without stopping to breathe. “What else do you want to know?”

“What’s your favorite colour?” I murmur in a vague attempt to distract myself.

“Green.”

“I thought it was black.”

“I prefer green to any other color,” he says. I refocus on the cigarette behind his ear, resisting the urge to rub against his leg like a cat in heat.

“May I?” I ask, pointing at the cigarette with my eyes, wanting to distract my dirty thoughts with something else.

I thought he would give it to me, but instead he takes a long drag, opens my lips by pressing my cheeks with his fingers, and exhales the smoke into my mouth, almost making me choke on it. His crooked smile has me on the verge of a heart attack. I divert my attention to the starry sky when he takes another drag. I shake my head when he gives me a questioning look, asking if I want another drag. He exhales again, lifting his head slightly and parting his lips. Since when did smoking become so attractive?

“I have another question.” He nods, turning his attention to me. “What are your intentions with me? Be honest,” my voice comes out more forcefully than I intended, but I don’t care too much. He now looks at me as if I had said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“You’re my wife, Lena. What intentions do you want me to have with you?”

24

“What?” The question comes out of her mouth as if she’s been electrocuted. I look at her, coming to the conclusion that she didn’t open the envelope I gave her days ago inside the Holy Bible.

I should have guessed it, since she never mentioned anything about it.

“H-How? When?” she whispers, returning to reality.

“A long time ago, when we were dating.” She tilts her head, seeming to be searching for something in her memory.

“I was underage.” I nod slowly.

Neither the fact that she was 17 at the time nor her parents' consent were a problem for me when it came to getting what would keep her by my side until the end of my days, whether it was by forging signatures or bribing people. It was the only way I could find to keep her by my side because of Ray’s stubbornness in refusing to accept Kristoff’s offer to unite our families. He thought it was my father’s idea to gain more power through the union, not really knowing everything that was behind it. He has always been a rat thirsty for power. My father didn’t care about his refusal and let it go, but I never did.

“Did my parents agree?”

“No.” Her eyes widen before frowning in confusion.

“No? They don’t know?” Her question sounds more like a confirmation that I don’t deny by shaking my head, feeling my stomach turn in knots.

“Was it legal? I don’t have your last names, do I?” No for now. I want to tell her, but the confusion in her eyes stops me. She probably has trouble remembering and finding answers that I can’t give her yet.

“No, but you can have them. It’s just a matter of going through the registry.” She shakes her head quickly, looking down with a smile on her lips.

“I want proof.”

I watch every tiny movement of her face with my heart in my throat, fearing she will run away as she reads the papers in amazement. Needless to say, the marriage certificate is original, even signed and stamped by the Toronto government. After a while, she swallows and looks up.

“What if I want a divorce?” She asks, looking back at me. I look at her, resisting the urge to shake her brain for thinking such a thing.

“That’d be fucked then, because I wouldn’t give it to you even after death,” I say harshly, wanting to make it clear that there’s no human or unearthly power in the universe that could break our vows.

We both lay down on the bed with the dim light from the lamp highlighting the curious gleam in her eyes as I stroke her hair in an attempt to help her find some comfort in the confusing sea of doubts she is navigating in now.

“I didn’t know you were religious,” she blurts out of nowhere, making me laugh.

“I can be, especially when it comes to you. But you are the only goddess I'd get on my knees for.” She lifts her head and looks at me with red cheeks.

“Tell me how it was. Our wedding.” I hold her tighter in my arms and rest my chin on her head, letting the memories of that night wash over me.