Page 123 of XOXO

“Watch that tone with me,” he snarled.

“Oh, fuck off,” I muttered, throwing a pillow over my head.

“We are leaving in thirty minutes and you better be ready,” he shouted.

Fucking asshole, giving me thirty minutes was criminal. I was too afraid to look at myself in the mirror, with all the crying I had been doing and the lack of water and food. My face was probably puffy and splotchy. My stomach grumbled, reminding me it had been almost a full day since I had eaten.

Sitting up and throwing the covers off, I catalogued how my body felt. My legs were scratched up, and bruised, looking worse for wear. My ankle felt tender, but not as bad as yesterday, it even looked a little less swollen. I rotated my ankle, feeling a slight twinge, even if it did look better.

I walked slowly to the bathroom, testing my ankle, telling myself it was better, but I didn’t know if it was. With too much weight on it, a sharp pain shot down my foot and made me flinch.

“Fuck,” I said, reaching the bathroom. “It’s ok, I just needed to elevate and ice it. I’ll be fine.”

This was my mantra as I got ready. Another shower made me feel a little more human and even if I didn’t have time, I put in curl cream, and scrunched it until I had loose waves. There was only enough time to fix my unruly brows and a touch of concealer to mask these bags under my eyes. Was this my new reality? Would every day feel like climbing over a mountain, feeling trapped and hopeless? If this was how our marriage was going to be like, there was no way I could stay with him. I had to figure something out when I got back to the states. This was no way to live.

The significance of my decisions weighed heavily on me as I grabbed my things to place in my bag. I stopped myself from crying a few times, missing the guys, hating the cruel world for giving me a glimpse of happiness and yanking it away.

“Violeta, now!” Lorenzo pounded on the door. “And you will wear this dress!”

“Excuse me?” I yelled, opening the door.

Lorenzo stood there holding out a summery dress that matched the tie he was wearing. I scrunched my nose, not hating the dress, but what it meant and who I would belong to.

“I will not wear this dress for a ten-plus hour flight,” I growled.

“You don’t have an option,” he snapped, shoving it towards me. “You have five minutes to dress and⁠—”

Lorenzo turned around, grabbing a sleek new piece of luggage.

“Throw away that hideous thing you call a bag and put your things in here,” he said, walking away.

I opened my mouth to say something, but what the fuck could I say? I was his bitch for the time being. I changed quickly into what he brought me and put strappy sandals on that weren’t as bad as I thought they would be. I instantly hated how put together on the outside I was, while I was hurting on the inside.

The luggage he bought me was big enough to pack everything and even though my bag was not the prettiest, I didn’t want to let it go. It held everything for me these last few months and I had started putting patches of all the places I had visited on it. I’d be damned if I had to leave this.

Taking one look around my room, I made sure I had left nothing. Lorenzo was on the phone as I exited my room, looking distraught, speaking in Spanish.

“Yes, I understand. I’m not stupid. We are leaving today and I will let you know when we arrive.”

He ended the call, looking up at the ceiling, sighing, clearly stressed out.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said, catching his attention. “You don’t want to marry me.”

“What I want doesn’t matter anymore,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

He opened the door as a man came in, taking my bags from me.

“I’m taking this,” I said, keeping my backpacking bag.

“Violeta,” Lorenzo snapped.

“Lorenzo,” I snapped back. “I’m shipping this home.”

I walked towards the elevator, hoping to make it down before him, but I wasn’t that lucky.

“That bag is useless,” he murmured, as the elevator took us down.

“I’m already marrying you, don’t make me give up everything,” I sighed, wondering how far I wanted to push him before he retaliated.