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“You told me to remain here. What’s going on, Vincenzo? What were you going to say to me back there in the bedroom?”
“Don’t ask questions like that. You don’t want to get close to me, Ophelia. You will only get hurt, trust me on that. I am not good with people.”
“That’s not true. You’re good with me. Very good with me.”
“Good at dominating you because you need dominating. Trust me, I will not say this again. Do not let yourself get close to me.”
I storm off without another word. One more look into those hurt eyes and I’d be apologizing. Next thing you know, I’d be telling her how I really feel.
Where would that leave us? Me hurting her because I can’t switch off the need to dominate? Her realizing what my life actually involves, how much blood is on my hands?
Neither of us need this.
That’s before I even think about the real reason I left the room. I will never get close to anyone again. I will never allow that much pain to get close to hurting me.
Closeness isn’t important. Affection isn’t important. All that matters is power. I am using her to reach my goals. It’s that simple. One month, and then I send her away. It’s the only way to make sure she doesn’t get hurt.
She doesn’t deserve to be hurt. She’s too special.
She deserves a good life and I can’t give her that. She needs someone who isn’t fucked up, who isn’t broken inside.
I march away from the house without looking back. I won’t return until I’ve got a hold of what’s going on inside me. I’ve never wanted a drink so badly in my life but I’m not going back to get one. I dare not do it. If I see her any time soon, I’m going to tell her I love her.
I must not do that. It will only end in pain for both of us. I will only return when I am myself, when I have shut all these bullshit emotions down. Then I’ll go back and spank the hell out of her for ignoring my command. Get things back on track, the way they should be.
She thinks I’m good with her but she’s wrong. She’s too tied up in all these new experiences to see clearly. I am not a good person. Never have been. Never will be. I am a bad man. It’s that simple.
She’ll see the truth sooner or later. Better to end it before she gets chance to see the kind of damage I do to people.
I shake all the thoughts away and stare at the sea, walking along the cliff edge to the north, following the rabbit trail around the back of the grounds of the house.
The one question I find barreling around my mind as I march along the cliffs surrounding the island is not one I would expect.
It’s this.
I wonder if she’s still got the plug in her ass?
Thirty-Nine
Ophelia
Icall Cathy. She answers at once, despite the time difference. “How’s married life treating you?” she asks as soon as the phone connects.
I wanted to remain strong but I burst into tears. “Hey,” she says. “What’s up? Did I say something wrong? Did he hurt you? Because if he did, I’ll serve his balls up on a silver platter.”
I manage to get myself together enough to answer, sniffing loudly as I do. “No, it’s nothing like that. Well, he did hurt me but not physically.”
“What happened?”
“We had sex and literally the second it was over, he stormed out of the room, yelled at me to stay where I was.”
“Oh my God. What did you do?”
“I went after him.”
“Good for you.”
“He was sitting outside and I tried to talk to him but he just stormed off again. I’ve no idea where he is now.”
