AllFreeNovel
Share Us
THREE
AMELIA
Amelia sat in the kitchen, pushing around her meal. The cook was under strict orders to only feed her steamed veggies and boiled chicken. She couldn’t even remember what bread smelled like, let alone how it tasted.
“Amelia,” Greg roared from somewhere deep in the house. “Amelia!”
Her husband’s form filled the doorway to the dining room for only a second as he rushed to her. He pulled her to her feet and fisted her hair. “Tell me this is a wig.” He tugged, making her wince.
“It’s not.”
“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at,” he spat. “You know the rules.”
“I do,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly. “And I decided that as a grown woman, I can choose my hair color.”
“I should shave you. Bald.”
Amelia inhaled sharply. She had, of course, anticipated that he would threaten that. “Fine,” she shrugged out of his hold. She didn’t want him to notice that she was shaking in fear.
“Fine?” he repeated, his eyes turning colder than an Arctic breeze. “Fine?” He took her dinner plate and threw it against the back window. Glass and broccoli stems covered the white marble floor. Greg wasn’t done. He threw her glass of water before doing the same to the bouquets of flowers that decorated the room.
By the time he was done, there was glass everywhere.
“Pick this shit up,” he said. “I won’t let anyone on the staff help you either. This is your mess, you clean it up. And make another appointment to get back to your normal hair.”
“This is my normal hair,” she snapped.
His eyes widened and his nostrils flared. She hadn’t spoken back to him in years. “I really thought this insane rebellious streak was gone.”
“I guess not,” she replied. “I’m getting older and wiser. I want to be treated better.”
“Better?” he roared before laughing, the sound devoid of any humor. “Better? You want to be treated better?” His smile was terrifyingly malicious. “Oh, I’ll show you better.”
He was gone before she could dare ask how much worse her life could get. There was no arguing with him. She had done more than enough to piss him off for the next year.
Instead of feeling doomed, Amelia felt like herself for the first time in a long time.
* * *
It tookAmelia a good two hours to clean up every last fragment of glass from the dining room. By the time she was done, there was not a single sign of her husband’s latest temper tantrum. Exhausted, she made her way up the stairs and to her bedroom.
The housekeeper, a woman in her late sixties by the name of Meryl Woods, stood by the bedroom door. Her back was straight, her hands clenched together, and her face set in a hard and sad mask.
“Is everything all right?” Amelia asked. It wouldn’t be the first time that Greg would make another mess somewhere else while she cleaned one.
“No,” Meryl replied. “I’m so sorry, Amelia. Mr. Stevens wants you to sleep with the servants in the east wing tonight,” Meryl said, her tone apologetic. “I tried to set the room as best as I could, but he insisted on digging up an old camping cot.”
“It’s fine,” Amelia assured the aging housekeeper.
“It’s not,” she whispered, looking around to make sure no one could hear her. It was treasonous to say such a thing. And though Meryl helped Amelia as much as she could, the old woman couldn’t afford completely defying Greg. She, too, was in serious trouble with Greg for someone’s habits and actions. “He wants to teach you a lesson.”
“I know,” she replied. Amelia had banked on this reaction. It would make it that much easier to enact the next part of her plan if Greg was angry with her. “It’s fine. Really.”
Meryl didn’t believe her. “I tried to calm him, but—”
“I know how he is,” she quickly added. “Seriously. I’ll be fine.”
Meryl nodded. “If you say so.” The old woman left to do her usual tasks, but as Amelia watched her walk away, she hoped that Greg wouldn’t blame Meryl when he noticed his wife was gone.
