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“I mean every fucking word,wife.” His words are heavy as granite falling between us like an unmovable boulder. His closed off expression tells me that there is no way I can win this but I don’t care. How he can take me on such a lovely trip then act like this just because he has bad news from home is more than not fair, it hurts me.
“How about I will start acting like a wife when you start treating me like one.” Nose stinging, I try to wretch my hand away. Impossibly he snatches me closer.
“You gave that up when you ran from me, little bitch. When you left me signing me over the hell.” The cruelty of his words bombards me like vicious little bombs.
“You’re a big bastard.” I feel bruises bloom on my wrist as I try to no avail to dislodge him. I tumble when he abruptly releases me.
“I knew my father as much as that may have pained him.” He rises leaving me sprawled on the floor giving me his back raking his hands through his hair in the telltale gesture of frustration.
Pulling myself up to my feet, I rub my chafed skin. “He seemed proud of you the few times I met him. You dishonor him and us by doing this,” I say to his broad back.
Whipping around he manacles my throat. “What the fuck do you know about honor, Tay-chan? You are a fucking coward who ran.”
“Y-you almost killed me.” Scratching his exposed wrist I don’t miss the blood welling on his torn flesh. If he’s bothered, he doesn’t show it.
“We said for better or for worse if I recall. Keep fucking with me and we can make it true.” His mouth kicks up with triumphant cruelty.
“Your guardian promised he wouldn’t kill me. I doubt he’ll let you.” His grip tightens as I speak, but I can see the truth of my words. “You promised you wouldn’t, anyway. I know you can’t. You don’t want to. You’re just hurting and now you want to make me hurt. Make us both hurt because you can’t deal with your shit.” Stars dance before my eyes just as he releases me. Making myself stand on my feet, I reach for the sofa’s arm to steady myself.
My breath saws in and out of me. Fear is the farthest thing from my mind. Anger rolls through me like thunder. “I’m not going to be your biddable little wife. I will be your partner. I will comfort you if you let me. When your father passed away, wedidn’t know any better. You’ve sought help since then. What did they tell you to do when you experienced trauma?”
He stiffens at my words. “To reach out to my therapist or someone I feel safe with.”
Swallowing back the pain knowing I am not that for him at least not yet, I nod. “Then call them. Now.”
He looks at me for a hard moment. “It’s private.”
“Go to the garden and close the door. If you want to see me and apologize after I will be here. If you don’t or won’t, then have a safe trip.” Seconds tick by and it’s like we’re in a visual battle. Taking his phone out, he presses the keypad.
“Dr. Inoru, I apologize for the call at this hour, but I have an emergency,” he says to his therapist. “Hai.” He nods my way then turns toward the garden’s double doors.
Watching as he goes out into the garden I wait until he closes the doors before allowing my shoulders to relax. The tension in my body is so tightly wound I feel like I’m about to explode.
I don’t know if I’m in shock or still angry, probably both. Deciding a shower will calm me I head into my bathroom.
Seconds after I turn the spigot steaming hot water pours from the shower head. Securing my head with a bonnet and a shower cap I step inside. Soaping the loofah, I let the warm soothing scent of vanilla rose envelope me.
Taking my time, I bathe my body twice then start my face routine in the shower. Feeling calmer, I do my entire face routine, not skimping on the products or skipping the steps. Not knowing how long Hisashi’s conversation with his therapist is going to take or if he’s going to leave without saying anything or even acknowledging just how fucked up his behavior was, I instead focus on what I can control — myself.
Taking his even calling the therapist as a small win, I go on to moisturizing my body. Walking naked into the closet, I pull on a pink cami and boy short set. It leaves my plump tummy exposed,which Hisashi seems to love along with the way the shorts ride high on my bottom. Not that I’m trying to entice his mean ass, but it’s either this or be naked — he considers this loungewear and I should be grateful he’s deigned to allow me clothes.
His moods are mercurial at best. I know I was pushing him far past his boundaries when I asked to start over. However, he gave me hope with the Paris trip. I should have known better. Whatever his bizarre agenda of punishment is having what we could have been must be on the top of his agenda.
I’ll know better than to get my hopes up ever again. It’s all cruelty. Teasing me with the promise of forever. He watched me for years devising his scheme of retribution. Yet, he expects a biddable little wife. Never happening.
I get in the bed, my eyes on his form encased in shadows as he seems relaxed back into one of the patio chairs as he talks to his doctor. That’s his way. Never giving off the turmoil inside. His brain switching to protect him and slide the mask in place.
I don’t feel myself drifting off as I read an epic fantasy tale in which the world is held in the balance upon the discovery of a fae king and his hidden princess.
A hard body presses against me. “Ore o yurushitekure,” he whispers, covering my neck with a kiss. “I was wrong to allow my emotions to get out of hand. In the future I will reach out to Dr. Inoru and not bother you with this.”
Sleep having fell away at his touch I turn in his arms shaking my head. “I want you to tell me what is going on. I —” I don’t dare say it. “I want to be here for you. I just don’t want you lashing out at me, hurting me.” My gaze searches his face, and I don’t expect any promises. I see the wounds in his expression. He touches his head to mine. “I’m so fucking sorry. For ever even approaching you at that gala. I just couldn’t…”
I don’t ask what. I was drawn to him from the moment I saw him. Something in him spoke to me. Words seem inadequate. Cupping his face I meet his gaze. “We do this together.”
“Together,” he whispers, pressing a soft open kiss to my lips. I don’t hesitate to open for him. He takes my lips in a soft apology. The ask for forgiveness on his lips hovers just there before we touch, firm, open, unhesitating. My answer matches. A sweep of my tongue touching, tasting, a welcome, also a plea; take me, cherish me, forgive me too.
In that moment I think he does a little.
