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“She was making conversation and being nice, is all.”
“She can be nice to someone else.”
“Would it kill you to be a little more civil to her? She was a sweet old lady. She couldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Threats come in all shapes and forms, and when you least expect it.” He sets his jaw. “It’s my job to watch over you."
I throw up my hands. "Nothing’s going to happen to me."
"You bet, it won’t. I’m going to make sure it doesn’t."
We set off again, and when we’re clear of the village and back on the road, I turn to him. "What happened to you, Edward? What made you so suspicious of everyone and everything. Was it the incident?"
When he doesn’t answer, I scrutinize his features. "Itwasthe incident, wasn’t it?"
"Don’t." His jaw hardens. "I told you, I’m not ready to talk about it."
"When will you be ready?"
"I’m not sure."
"Will youeverbe ready?" I know I’m pushing him, when I should be giving him space. But I wish he wouldn’t shut me out. I wish I didn’t have to second guess his reactions. I want to be understanding, but I'm only human. And his wife. And he’s, my husband. I trust him.Why can’t he trust me? Will he ever trust me?
Maybe I shouldn’t have come. I thought spending time alone with him, away from our day-to-day cares, would help bring us close. Now, I’m not so sure.
I turn to face forward. Darkness has fallen, and the headlights illuminate the road before us. We begin to climb up a hill, the road winding its way around another village. The lights of the city below come into view, and beyond that, the darkness of the sea. Even though it’s too dark to make out the scenery, something tells me the view will be spectacular in the daylight. It begins to snow again, and by the time I see the sign that says we’re entering Penzance, some of my earlier anger fades away.
I’m being too hasty. We’ve only been married a few weeks. He’s beginning to open up to me, not by much, but more than when we first met. I need to be more patient. Also, we’ve only just left London. We haven’t even reached our destination. I can’t possibly expect him to open up and spill his secrets while he’s busy driving.
I need to give this... giveus, more time. I shoot him a sideways glance, "Thank you for taking me to see the lights, anyway. Especially since, I’m sure you didn’t want to be there."
He raises a shoulder.
"That’s why you drove through the village," I say slowly. "You wanted me to experience the Christmas lights. You knew I’d love it. You did it for me."
He stays quiet, and anger crawls up my spine.
"Oh! You could, at least, take credit when it’s due." I turn on him.Okay, so I’m not as patient as I’d like to be."Why do you have to be so stubborn? Why do you have to hide behind that severe facade when you’re so much more inside? Why, Edward, why?"
His biceps bulge, and his shoulders seem to swell. And when he finally speaks, his voice brooks no argument. "Because I will never be able to love you the way you should be. Nothing you tell me will convince me otherwise. I’m broken, Belle. I’m not a good man. I’m not the kind of person you want to spend the rest of your life with. I’m all wrong for you, Belle. I never should have brought you out here."
His thoughts echo my earlier thoughts, but hearing it from him sends a chill of foreboding through my veins. "Don’t say that."
"You wanted to know more about me. Well, this is it. This is who I am. Cold, distant, unfeeling. Unable to appreciate the kind of woman you are. Unable to give you what you need to thrive."
"I needyou," I insist. "I want to be with you."
He turns off the main road and onto a road that curves around the hillside and heads down toward the water. Below us, the sea stretches out, a mass of darkness, and I shiver. I wrap my arms about myself. He must notice it, for he flips a switch and the air circulating through the Jag grows warmer. He positions the vents, so they’re focused on me, then presses the button for the seat warmer. That’s the kind of man he is, so cued into my needs.
He won’t let me get cold, will make sure I want for nothing… Except maybe, for an emotional commitment from him.
No, that’s not true. Regardless of what he says, we’ve made so much progress. If not, I wouldn’t be here. If not, he wouldn’t have taken this step of bringing me with him to a place where it will only be the two of us for the next week. Another shudder rolls through me. This one is thicker, syrupy. This one is the kind that slides through my bloodstream and coils between my thighs. He reaches the level of the beach, drives down a road, that's rocky enough to make the Jag bumps as he eases it along. He finally brings the car to a stop and switches off the engine. In the silence that follows, broken only by the sound of metal cooling, he stares through the windshield. "Do you really need me, though?"
"Of course, I do."
And when he finally looks at me, the pain in his eyes shoots an arrow through my heart.
"Eddie," I whisper, "what is it? You can tell me anything."
