AllFreeNovel
Share Us
2
MARY CATHERINE
HYSTERIA - MUSE
HELL’S KITCHEN, NEW YORK
PRESENT DAY
“It’stime for you to get married, Mary Catherine.”
As crazy as he sounded, and as crazy as I was for not reacting, I knew the rest of my life hinged on this moment.
My reaction to his statement was pivotal.
Over the last few years, Daddy had morphed into Dad then into Father as his bitterness grew, his hatred for my mother alongside it.
As a result, while his declaration should have had me bursting into tears, I remained calm.
Losing my shit would get me nowhere.
So, instead of rushing to the bathroom to puke, and rather than hurling my plate at the wall in a tantrum, I scooped up some chicken noodle soup and raised the spoon to my mouth.
His tone brokered no argument—defiance wouldn’t serve a purpose in this interaction. But that didn’t mean I was about to roll over and take whatever bullshit he was handing out.
Not this time.
Him dictating what I wore and which college I went to was different than him deciding my future husband.
Swallowing the small puddle of broth on my spoon was like asking me to chug down Niagara Falls, but I managed it then asked, “When?”
He arched a brow at me. “That’s your only question?”
“What else is there to ask?” I queried, shooting him a calm, polite smile while trying to exude the elegance he demanded from me.
Elegance he insisted my mother didn’t have.
Elegance that appeased him and made him a tolerable dinner partner.
“Who your groom is, of course.” When I didn’t leap to ask him, he stated, “Bill Murphy.”
Inside, I felt everything youthful in me shrivel up as if I were on the brink of death.
He eyed me, a challenge in his expression as if he knew what I was thinking, as if he longed for my reaction.
As if he wanted to punish me for it.
Bill Murphy was closer to sixty than fifty, older than my father by a good ten years, and had six dead wives to his name.
Aside from the rumors of him being a very merry widower, rumors that were pretty goddamn bad on their own, I didn’t think he had a reputation for being cruel.
He’d always been pleasant to me when he came over for dinner.By comparison to my father, he’d probably be the lesser evil.
Jesus.
What had I ever done to deserve thelesser evil?
I wanted to ask him why he hated me so much, enough to tie me to a man that old, to a man who had married six times already, but he wouldn’t answer.
