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“This is… this is…” I pause and take a breath, preparing for what is sure to come once I’ve told them. “This is my wife.”
I don’t stick around to see the shock on their faces I’m sure will be there because Lily is more important right now. Instead, I spin around and walk as fast as I can toward my house without hurting her too much, finally putting her down when we get to the door.
I push it open and just as I lean down to pick her back up, she whispers, “I can walk.” I don’t listen though because the sadness and heartbreak on her face tells me she needs me just as much as I need her right now.
Lifting her back up, her white dress still covering her body, I head up the stairs and to my bedroom, not putting any lights on before placing her in bed and getting in beside her.
I hold her for hours, promising to not let go as she is in and out of sleep, but my eyes are wide open, my brain working overtime as I plot all the ways to get her the revenge she deserves.
LILY
My muscles ache, my mind as tired as my body as I roll over slowly and reach my arm out.
My hand lands on a cold pillow and I keep my eyes closed as I take stock of where I am and what happened yesterday. My thumb moves to my third finger, feeling the band there. I got married—to a man I don’t really know. I may have “known” him for months, but I have no idea who he actually is.
Am I stupid for saying yes and agreeing to all of this?
My gut tells me I’m not, but I can’t stop the small voice in the back of my mind that tells me I should have ran.
But would I have ever been truly free?
I wouldn’t. I know that now. And I trust Luke with my life. I have no doubt about that.
Opening my eyes before I lift into a sitting position slowly, I try to silent my thoughts as I look around the room, blinking the tiredness from my eyes.
There’s a chest of drawers on the right side of the room and a dark-blue blind hanging over the window next to that. My gaze runs over a door that must be a closet before I stop on the chair next to it. Luke’s ice-blue eyes focus on me, and when he doesn’t move a muscle for a beat, I wonder if he’s really looking at me.
His face is a mask, not letting a single emotion through the contours as he runs his pointer finger along his bottom lip. He’s staring at me, but I can tell he’s not really there, he’s somewhere in the recesses of his mind.
I wait, my fingers playing with the sleeve of my dress where it meets my wrist, the white material brash in the low light of the room.
Running my gaze over him, I take in what he’s wearing—the same thing he was yesterday, just like me—only his shirt is wrinkled. His legs are open wide, and I find myself wanting to crawl over to him and burrow into his chest and the safety of his arms. But I don’t. I stay put, waiting to see what he’s going to say.
I try to smile but the ache in my jaw has it waning. Still he doesn’t move or say a word. I shuffle in the bed and hold the comforter around me like a shield.
“Luke?” I finally whisper, deciding I need to not be this person. I fought to not become who I am right now. I didn’t want to be the weak girl who needs someone to tend to her or too frightened to move out of fear. I’m not that person. I’ll never be that person again.
Summoning up the courage deep down inside, I pull the covers back before starting to stand. My sudden movement has his focus snapping back and he stands up before moving toward me.
He places his hand on my arm, and even though I try to tell myself his touch doesn’t affect me, I know I’m wrong. “You shouldn’t be moving, darlin’.”
Rolling my eyes, I try to push him aside but he’s a brick wall of a man and doesn’t move an inch. “I need to pee and shower,” I tell him, giving him a pointed look. “Then maybe you could tell me where we are?” I pause, standing up straight.
He frowns down at me, his mouth opening and closing several times before he nods and steps away from me. “Bathroom is through there.” He points to the other door in the room. “I’ll find you some clothes.” He spins around and walks out of the bedroom before I can say anything.
I don’t move as I watch the door and listen to his footsteps as he walks down the stairs. I don’t want to push too hard to get to know him more because I know I’ll have to give as much as I take. But the urge to know everything about him is rife.
What if he doesn’t want to get to know me more?
I shake the thoughts from my head, remembering what he said to me yesterday and the way he looked at me without an ounce of doubt.
Gripping the sides of my head, I wish my mind would stop working on overdrive. Everything is all too much right now. I need to take things one step at a time, because if I think too far ahead, I’ll overwhelm myself.
I take several deep breaths before walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind me. The black tiles are cold on the bottom of my feet, but it’s a refreshing kind of cold, one I relish in.
The steam starts to roll around the small room after I’ve turned the shower on, distorting my reflection in the mirror, effectively hiding all my bruises and only showing my silhouette.
