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“He’s my husband.”
“No, Amber, he isn’t.”
“I’m not going to leave Christopher. I’m sorry. I’m not.”
“Then you’re just as bad as Richard. He may have forced you both to get married, but you are forcing it to continue. My son was a victim of your father. But you, Amber, are torturing him more than Richard ever did.”
I shake my head, tears escaping my eyes no matter how hard I try to fight them off. “That’s not true. I live every single day to make Christopher happy. I love him. He loves me.”
She laughs. A laugh so evil it sends a shiver down my spine. “He doesn’t love you. He feels obligated. You are his responsibility. He brought home a stray and now has to feed and house it. It’s not love. Understand that. It’s far from love. You can’t force love, and that is exactly what you and Richard did to him.”
I push away from the table and drop my napkin on the plate. “I’m sorry. I’ve lost my appetite.”
Without waiting to be excused or allowing the conversation to continue, I spin on my heels and march up the stairs. I’m careful not to run. I take each step evenly and slowly. I don’t want to seem hysterical and out of control. I want to scream and yell. Actually, I really wanted to throw my wine glass at the woman’s head but restrained myself.
Her words sting so badly it feels like a nest full of hornets is attacking my heart, shredding my soul.
Is she right?
Does Christopher not really love me?
Am I nothing but a stray dog that has just been let out of her cage?
12
Christopher
“You missed dinner,” I hear to my left when I walk into the house.
I enter the dining room and see my mother sitting at the head of the table, sipping her wine. Her half-eaten plate still sits in front of her as well as another barely touched plate, which I assume was Ember’s. She hadn’t had much of an appetite since arriving, and I make a mental note to keep an eye on how little she is eating. She’s tiny enough to begin with, and I need to make sure she keeps up her strength.
I pick up a potato and pop it into my mouth as I lean against the back of Ember’s chair. “Shoot ran long,” I say. “Sorry.”
“Sit,” she says as she motions for me to sit. “I’ll have Ms. Evans bring you out your dinner.”
“I’m fine,” I say. “I ate at the shoot.”
“Still… sit.”
I can see she’s serious, and I decide to humor and give her some time. I hadn’t had any real alone time with her since arriving and figured she’d like some with me without all the crazy media, and even without Ember.
As soon as I sit, she begins. “I’d like to talk about your future.”
I nod. “I know. I’m working on it. Ember and I will be out of your hair as soon as we find a place. I’ve been so busy, and with everything going on, I didn’t feel it was right to just dive right in. I don’t want to move Ember from one rental to another, so I’m looking at buying a place. I want it to be just right and not settle.”
“When will you stop with the dutiful husband act?” Her words come out like sharp glass, slicing at my calm and relaxed mood I had been in when entering the house.
I sigh loudly and reach for the bottle of wine, pouring Ember’s glass full so I can have a little liquid courage for what I know will be a conversation that won’t end well.
“Go ahead,” I say. “Tell me how I’m making a mistake. How I’m ruining my life. How I need to kick Ember out on her ass. Get it out of your system so I don’t ever have to hear you say this shit again.”
“It’s all true. You just said it, because you know deep down it’s true.”
“Wonderful. Are we done?” My jaw locks as I take deep breaths to try to keep my cool.
“No, far from it. Have you even tried calling Marissa? That poor girl deserves a phone call. I know she’s trying to be understating and give you space, but you should be putting her feelings into consideration. Have you even tried reaching out?”
Clearly, my mother already knows the answer to that question, or she wouldn’t be asking. “No. I need time. I will when I’m ready.”
“She was your girlfriend. You loved her. Is this how she deserves to be treated?”
“Of course not,” I snap. “I know I need to face her and deal with this, but it’s not exactly easy. And it’s not as if I haven’t had my hands full. Call it selfish, but my bandwidth can only handle so much right now. But yes, I plan on talking to Marissa. She deserves closure.”
