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“You had nothing before me. I took you in. I gave you everything you wanted. I loved you. And what did you do? You fucked every man I let into this house!”
“Because you wouldn’t touch me!”
I jump at her loud screech. When she speaks again, her words are mixed with her cries.
“You didn’t even pretend to want me. You wouldn’t fuck me even if I was eagle-spread for you. You didn’t kiss me unless we were out in public. You made me feel unloved.”
“Youtellme that,“ He sounds much calmer now. “You don’t cheat.”
“I shouldn’t have to! A husband craves his wife in every way. When was the last time we fucked? It’s been nearly two years.” Her laugh has a ring of crazy to it. “No man can go that long without sticking his dick somewhere – especially you. You always wanted to fuck me, to turn me into an obedient whore. So tell me, my dear husband, which new whore are you fucking until she can no longer stand?”
“You make me sick. You are fucking delusional. Why would I want to touch you when half of this city has been inside you?”
My hand goes to my mouth to catch my gasp at Xavier’s crude words. Both are firing disgusting things at each other, but his slut-shaming makes me feel sick.
“Because I wasn’t getting anything from you! You only touched me when we were trying for a baby and when I couldn’t give you that you didn’t sleep in the same bed as me.”
“Because I couldn’t tolerate lying in bed next to a liar,” he replies, void of emotion. “It had nothing to do with you being unable to carry a child. It was because every time I looked at you, I remembered that you were not the woman I married. You became my mother – the one woman I despise.”
There is silence as his harsh words hang in the air. The pacing has stopped, as have her cries. I can imagine the two of them staring at one another across the room, unwilling to be the first to look away.
“I might not be perfect, but at least I accept who I am,” she calmly states. “I can see you for what you are. Maybe your mother did too.”
As angry as I am with him, my heart hurts for him. It only took one conversation about his absent mother to know it was a sensitive topic, and Emery just threw it in his face.
“Don’t worry, I won’t ruin your perfect image,” she consoles. “I’ll sit pretty and carry on being the mould you forced me into.”
“I didn’t force you to become an alcoholic, crazy lunatic.Youdid that. Pathetically drinking yourself to your grave. Carry on, Emery. You’d do me a favour if you dropped dead.”
The footsteps coming down the stairs are fast, and I hide in the first corner I can find.
Please don’t walk this way.
Thankfully, Xavier storms out the front door, slamming it behind him. I stay glued to the wall, unsure of what to do. I should quietly leave and pretend I didn’t hear anything. There is no movement upstairs, so I take it as my cue to leave.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” she says, making me jump.
I slowly turn around to see Emery looking at me with puffy eyes and red cheeks. The strings on her slip dress slide off her shoulders and her hair is dishevelled.
“I didn’t mean to. I just came to…” It feels useless to explain why I came. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
She shrugs and walks past me, leaving me confused about where to go. She rummages around in the kitchen and joins me two minutes later with a bottle of wine. “Come.”
She doesn’t give me a choice as she leads me to a hidden area of the house that wasn’t part of the original tour. She holds the door open, and once I am in, she locks it.
Like the rest of the house, the room has bright white walls. The double bed is made of a deep-coloured wood and sits against the wall. Two matching armchairs and a small round table are placed next to the window, looking out into the garden.
She takes a seat on an armchair and opens her bottle of wine. She slowly pours herself a glass, filling it to the brim. I cautiously watch her as she takes a large gulp. Her eyes close, relishing in the comfort the drink provides her.
“I would offer you a glass...” she doesn’t finish her sentence. She points at the empty seat opposite her. “Take a seat. Despite what my husband said, I won’t try to kill you.”
I swallow hard. Leaning into my seat, I ask, “Are you okay?”
Nursing her drink, she watches out the window. In the distance, all I can see is the stretch of grass in the garden. From this height advantage, I can see my little home and wish I was hidden within my four walls.
“My marriage is a despicable thing. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think.”
