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I might not be a whore like my father said, but there is one thing he was right about. I am like my mother, selfish, not caring what I do as long as I do it for myself. I hear the water running and cabinets opening and closing.
When he comes back, he picks me up and places me in the bathtub. I hiss, but the warm water and the oils make it better. When I look into his glassy eyes, I curl up on the inside.
“I accept it, Aurora. This unhappiness. I deserve it. I’m fucking sorry.”
I freeze at his dead voice. “You can move back to your room.”
My heart breaks with sorrow.
“We’ll go to the wedding. In public, we’ll be the loving couple. At home, we don’t have to pretend any longer. There is no coming back from this, after what I just did to you.”
I should feel relieved, but I am miserable. He leaves me, and I hug my knees and cry. I don’t know how long I stay in the tub with my cheek on my knee, but I am exhausted. I stand up and wrap a towel around myself. Still feeling him inside me, I go back into the empty bedroom and climb into bed, curling up on my side.
I open and close my eyes, chasing a sleep that avoids me with the capacity of a deer, sensing the hunter on her tail. I feel hollow, and I dig my nails into the pillow.
Was he so blinded by jealousy, actually believing there was another man? Was I so set on hurting him that I ended up hurting us both?
By now, I believe I have exhausted my tears. His wretched words, his dejected voice, strangled my heart. It was my stupid attempt to put a barrier between us. Because I always do that when we share something deep.
Congratulations, Aurora!
I won’t have freedom, nor will I have him. The sad truth is, I want both. Even though I have no idea how it would work out.
***
With the sun streaming through the curtains, I wake up alone. The loss permeates the air around me, clinging to my damp skin. I caress the empty spot. I am sure neither of us thought this is how this week would end.
My phone rings and I drag myself out of bed to answer it.
Chiara is talking, but the words don’t register. I’m lost in the fog of my mind.
“Aurora?”
“Hmm?”
“What happened? What did he do now?”
The anger my best friend carries will be her doom too. Sister Theodora once said how the way we react in the face of things we can’t change shape our destiny. I could have accepted it, and maybe somewhere along the line I would have been happy until the moment I could be the master of my fate.
“I’ll call you later.”
I hang up. She’s being forced to marry a man she hates, and here I am wallowing in self-pity.
After I get dressed, the slight discomfort between my legs has me flinching, but it will pass. It’s the scars I put on my heart that will last longer. It’s so easy to blame others whenever you can.
At the breakfast table, I search for Kieran, and Tamara’s eyes find mine, caution and worry etched in them.
“Kieran left earlier.”
After a few spoons of oatmeal, I drop my spoon in the bowl, dragging myself to the library.
I stare at the same page for so long, the knock at the door startles me. My heart speeds up, thinking it’s him, but it’s Tamara.
“Someone is here for you.”
I follow her in the hallway and find a tall, attractive woman I have never seen before dressed in an impeccable suit, her brown hair grazing her shoulders.
“I’m Lauren. Mr. Hunt sent me.” My eyebrows knit together when she adds, “I’m your new personal assistant.”
