Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 198235 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 991(@200wpm)___ 793(@250wpm)___ 661(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 198235 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 991(@200wpm)___ 793(@250wpm)___ 661(@300wpm)
He appears in the bathroom doorway, still naked, still wet and with his chest still rising and falling noticeably. I’m staring at him. He’s staring at me.
Sitting up and pulling my knees to my chest, I feel small and awkward. It shouldn’t be like this between us.
‘I’ve been taking your pills.’ His jaw ticks and his neck muscles bulge.
The words, spoken with no remorse or regret, widen my eyes and straighten my back. His face is expressionless, and even though I knew, I’m shocked. Hearing him say it aloud, confessing to it, is increasing my already speeding heart rate.
‘I said I’ve been taking your pills.’ He sounds angry.
This can’t be ignored any longer. I can feel the dormant anger sizzling inside of me, pushing me to release it. My period is due tomorrow, and I’m certain it’s not going to arrive. This man, my crazy husband, has just completely and unashamedly confessed to stealing my birth control pills, and now my denial is converting into blood boiling fury.
‘Ava, for fuck sake, woman!’ His hands fly to his head in frustration. ‘I’ve been taking your fucking pills!’
I don’t even try to reason because there is absolutely nothing reasonable about this situation. As I pace towards him, he watches me closely, cautiously, and when I’m standing before him, I slap him clean across his face. My palm in instantly on fire, but I’m too angry to focus on the pain. His head has turned to the side, his eyes are down, and I can still only hear our fitful breathing, except now they’re not sated, heavy breaths, they’re anger fuelled gasps. He brings his face back up and before I’m aware of what I’m doing, my hand is flying out again, but this time he catches my wrist in front of his face. I yank myself free and proceed to thump his chest with both fists in a frenzied lash out of anger. And he lets me. He just stands there and takes my deranged beating, my fists persistently striking him as I scream and wail. When I think I might collapse with exhaustion, I step back and lose control of my tears.
‘Why?’ I shout at him.
He doesn’t try to touch me or come towards me. He just remains standing in the doorway, still with no emotion on his face. His frown line isn’t even there, but I know he must be concerned, and he must be really concentrating on not restraining his deranged wife.
‘You were ignoring it, Ava. I need you to acknowledge this.’ His voice is soft and even. ‘I needed to spike a reaction from you.’
‘I don’t mean why you’ve told me. I knew! I mean why the fuck did you do it?’
His frown line has arrived. So has the nibbled lip. I don’t know why he’s thinking so hard about this. Nothing can detract from the fact that this is plain fucked up. He is fucked up, and I’m fucked up for ignoring it all this time. ‘You make me crazy.’ He shakes his head. ‘You make me do crazy shit, Ava.’
‘So it’s my fault?’ I scream. ‘My pills started going missing only days after you took me.’ I say took because he actually did. He broke me down, his determination impossible to escape.
‘I know.’ His eyes drop to the floor.
Oh no! He will face me, not look away from me. I steam back into his chest and grab his jaw, forcing his reluctant head up. ‘You don’t get to evade your reasons for this. You’ve taken it upon yourself to dictate my life direction. I don’t want a fucking baby! This is my body! You don’t get to make these decisions for me!’ My voice is breaking through my screams. ‘Tell me why the fucking hell you did this to me!’
‘Because I wanted to keep you forever.’ he whispers.
I drop his jaw and step back. ‘You wanted to trap me?’
‘Yes,’ His eyes drop again.
‘Because you knew I’d run when I found out about your business and your drinking problem?’
‘Yes.’ He refuses to look at me.
‘But I came back after I found out about The Manor and the alcohol, yet you still took my pills.’ This man makes no sense.
‘You didn’t know about my history then.’
‘I do now.’
‘I know.’
‘Stop saying you know!’ My arms wave around in front of him. I’m losing control again.
His eyes lift, but they don’t meet mine. They’re darting around the room, looking at anything but me. He’s ashamed. ‘What do you want me to say?’ he asks quietly.
I don’t even know, so I turn and head for the wardrobe. I’ve been married to this man for a day and I’m walking out on him, but I have no clue of what else to do. I grab my ripped jeans and yank them on.
‘What are you doing?’ His voice is full of the fear I knew it would be. He’ll never cope with this, but neither will I if I stay. This has suddenly hit me very hard.