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36
Lia
Ithink I’m going insane.
In the beginning, I chalked it up to my nightmares getting the better of me. I was dreaming about memories of Mom and Dad in Sicily, and most of them were about being trapped in a box with no way out.
But then I started having those nightmares while I was awake. My mind broke my spirit, my soul, and my fucking heart.
I realized something was definitely wrong when Jeremy became scared of me. He called me a ghost and said he hates Ghost Mommy.
Adrian has his nanny working full-time now and he’s been distancing Jeremy from me like he always intended to. He’s been taking away my angel.
Since the night I broke whatever is between us, Adrian hates me. He doesn’t say it in words, but he proves it in actions more than enough. He hate-fucks me every night, in the pussy, then in the ass, and sometimes he’ll take me to the shower just to do it all over again. I loathe how much I like it, how much I tingle with anticipation for his rough handling and unapologetic owning. In a way, that’s the only time I’m forced to be alive, to snap out of my daytime nightmares and the demons lurking in my head.
But whenever he’s not touching me, the vicious circle resumes. I’m plagued by memories of the man I killed, the life I finished, the innocence I slaughtered.
I overestimated my mind and believed that I’d survive killing someone. I haven’t. Ever since that day, I’ve been going downhill with no way to stop the slide.
I always thought myself above Adrian’s lifestyle, but I’m as much of a killer as he is now. The notion that I’ll become just as soulless brings tears to my eyes.
I’m losing touch with reality and with Jeremy. It’s worse when I take my antidepressants. I turn into a zombie, too numb to move or talk or even think.
Adrian took me back to my shrink, the same one I used to see. I didn’t bother asking how he knew about her, because Adrian knows whatever he wants to.
Even though he waited outside while I had my visit, I couldn’t find the words to talk to her. Before, I used to tell her about my parents and the black box, about how ballet wrenched me out of that box. After my career ended, I was stuffed into it again, but only for a brief while until Jeremy came along. However, now that I’ve killed someone, the box’s walls are tightening around my soul.
How could I tell the shrink that? How could I tell her that I murdered a person to protect my killer husband who married me just to use me?
It’s been months since I told Adrian I was cheating on him. At that moment, when he didn’t deny that he’d gotten close to me because of who my father is, he hurt me so badly, it was like the tip of his sharp blade tore through my heart and the feelings I had for him. I should’ve expected it, considering he doesn’t know how to feel, but I thought after five years of being together, he would’ve somehow gotten used to me like I’ve gotten used to him. He could’ve built a place for me in his black heart, even if it’s not as big as the area he occupies in mine.
I believed that maybe he cares a little.
Maybe he loves me a little.
But that was all naivety of my part. I’m the foolish one who fell in love. Adrian only ever saw me as a possession, as property. Someone he could fuck and keep under his thumb.
So I wanted to hurt him deeply. I wanted to stab him in his emotionless heart over and over so he’d feel a sliver of what I did. The only way to do so was by telling him that he was second, that the object he loved to possess wanted someone else.
But while I liked that night’s sex and the sex that followed after, I miss the other side of Adrian. The one who took care of me.
The one who hugged me to sleep and placed my feet on his lap, massaging away the tension.
Sometimes, I pretend to fall asleep in Jeremy’s room just so I’ll feel him lift me up, hold me to his strong body, and tuck me gently in bed.
Because in my waking moments, all I see on his face is hatred.
Sheer, utter hatred.
Adrian might have slightly gotten over my escape attempt, but he’ll never forgive me for cheating on him. He might not leave me, because I’m Jeremy’s mother and his ‘property,’ but he’ll never look at me as he did in the past.
He’ll never show me his rare smile or his caring side. He’ll never stroke my hair and kiss me before he goes out again.
I have to sneak around to watch him do those things with Jeremy.
That’s when I realize I’ve ruined everything.
Sometimes, I want to tell him it’s not true, that I lied because I was hurt, but his clipped words discourage me. He’d never believe me, anyway. Not when I held on to the lie for so long.
