11. Astrid
11
ASTRID
I sat at the dining table with a bottle of wine and a glass.
Dinner should already be in the oven, but I didn’t have the appetite or the heart.
In silence, I enjoyed my final moments in this house, memorized the golden chandelier, looked at the artwork that decorated the walls. The patio had a black ashtray where Bolton would smoke when he was up in the middle of the night. His slippers were still tucked underneath the couch where he’d left them. This was his house when we got together, but it quickly became our place, and I knew I would miss it.
The sound of the garage door was audible a second later.
My heart started to race. My palms started to sweat. The half-empty bottle of wine suddenly felt heavy in my stomach. He was home earlier than he’d said he would be, so the job must have gone smoothly.
I was relieved he was okay, when I shouldn’t care in the slightest.
The door opened, and his footsteps were audible a moment later. He came in and set his bag on the side table, the other with the weapons on the floor. He stripped off his coat, his back to me. “Baby?”
I stared at him, not having the voice to speak.
He turned toward the kitchen, expecting to see me at the island making dinner. When he didn’t see me, his eyes flicked to me where I sat at the dining table. He froze, taking in the gray color of my face. He stilled, reading the room with the intuition of a killer.
I stared back—and the anger frothed in my mouth.
He didn’t say a word as he approached the table. He didn’t sit. He grabbed the back of a chair and looked down at me, trying to gauge what was wrong without incriminating himself. Just like when you were negotiating, you should never make the first offer.
I wasn’t going to say a damn thing.
He continued to stare, doing his best to appear unbothered.
I knew how smart he was. He must have realized he’d left his tablet, and he must have realized that I’d looked at it when those messages came in. Must not have been aware he’d left his tablet at that time. He’d thought that conversation was gone the second it happened—but I’d watched the whole thing like a fucking football match.
He pulled out the chair and took a seat. “Baby?—”
“You lied to me.” I told myself I wouldn’t cry. Wouldn’t let him know how much he’d destroyed me. But I barely got the words out before my eyes started to water from the cold sting of his betrayal. “You looked me in the eye…and fucking lied.”
His face started to turn gray like storm clouds, like he had the humanity to feel sick.
“You acted like I betrayed you for even thinking it.” He lied so effortlessly, made me look like the asshole for just asking. What else had he lied about? He probably lied about things I didn’t even know he lied about because he was just that good. I wanted to know how many women there had been. I wanted to know when it had started. But I had to make my peace with never knowing the full story. “You ripped me apart for having a relationship with Theo, but you’ve had your side chick for years.”
His eyes flicked away.
“Look at me, asshole.”
My eyes were so wet that the tears were about to fall off the cliff. “Years.”
His eyes met mine again, and there was a distant sheen there.
“I…” My mind couldn’t consolidate all the feelings I had, the raw betrayal, the overwhelming agony, and the self-loathing that I’d been so na?ve and fucking stupid. Plain stupid. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
His eyes flicked away again.
“I asked you a question.”
“Baby—”
“Call me that again, and I’ll shoot you.” I grabbed the gun strapped underneath the table and placed it on the surface beside me. It was fully loaded. The safety was still on.
He didn’t look at the gun.
“Answer the question. How can someone lie like that? Just lie like it’s the truth. Tell someone that you love them and not mean it?”
“But I did mean it. I still mean it?—”
“Don’t insult me.” Tears streaked down my cheeks.
The sheen in his eyes started to increase. “She never meant anything to me.”
“It doesn’t matter if she’s a whore or the love of your life—I’m the one who never meant anything to you.”
His eyes flinched like my claws sank deep.
“Theo tried to tell me, and I didn’t listen.” He told me I deserved better. He told me Bolton was cheating before he asked for an open marriage. “Taking you back…is the biggest mistake of my life.”
The sheen built until a tear rolled down his cheek.
“Marrying you is the biggest mistake of my life.”
He closed his eyes and took a breath, swallowing his emotion before he looked at me again. “Astrid?—”
“There are things I want to know, but I know you’ll never tell me. Were you already with Carson when we met? How many others were there these last three years? Why did you marry me and not her? So many fucking questions…”
“Astrid, I fucked up?—”
“Biggest understatement I’ve ever heard.”
“I married you because I loved you. I’ve never loved her. And after hurting you, I realized how much that hurt me. And that’s why I changed?—”
“Oh my god, I think I’m falling in love with you again…”
He cringed at my savage mockery.
“How did I get so lucky?”
“I understand it’s a lot to ask?—”
“Don’t ask,” I said. “The answer is no, Bolton. A big fucking no.”
“I love you so fucking much, and I want to be in this marriage with you?—”
“I’ve been in this fucking marriage this entire time, and you’re just showing up to the party. Fuck no—and fuck off.” I really wanted to grab that gun and shoot him in the arm just to watch him bleed, the way my heart had bled these last two days. “I’ve been sitting here alone for the last two years while you’re off with Carson. Were you even working? Do you have a couple kids with this woman?”
“Astrid, come on?—”
“Come on?” I snapped. “Why don’t you just tell me to calm down while you’re at it.”
“I don’t have any kids?—”
“Why did you marry me?”
“I told you it’s because I love you.”
“But you don’t love me, Bolton. You don’t marry someone and then fuck around. Maybe, maybe, if it was a one-time drunken mistake, we might be able to work past that, but this is just a dumpster fire of lies, deceit, and infidelity. If you’re going to sit there and say you love me, then you’re a goddamn psychopath. Are you a psychopath?”
He stared at me.
“I’m actually asking you. Because that’s the only explanation I can think of.”
He said nothing. Now, his eyes were dry.
“You robbed me of my youth.” I didn’t have much time left. Now I had to find someone else, fall in love, and then pop out a few kids back-to-back. “Your promises were lies. Your commitment was a hoax. All of this feels like one big fucking nightmare.”
He dipped his head in shame and looked at the table.
“This is what we’re going to do. You’re going to leave. I’m going to pack up my things and move out over the next couple of days. I’ll file for divorce. Don’t worry, I’m not going to take your money because I don’t want it. I don’t want a penny of something that was never mine to begin with.”
He lifted his chin and looked at me.
“Go, Bolton.” The rage acted as a plug to my tears. It gave me more strength than I actually had, a surge of adrenaline and endorphins. But once he was gone, I knew I would break down once again.
He remained in the chair across from me.
“If you stay, then I’ll go. But you’re just making it more difficult for me, and after what you’ve done, I would hope that you would want to make my life easier—for once.”
He reached for the gun that I’d set beside me.
I stilled, unsure what he was about to do. Point that gun at me…or at himself.
He started to pull it apart, piece by piece, dismantling the gun so quickly, it seemed to be muscle memory for him. He left the pile of parts on the table between us, a metallic hors oeuvre. Then he sank back against the chair and looked at me. “You aren’t leaving.”
All I did was breathe. In and out. Slowly at first. Then quicker.
It was something about the sound of his voice, a tone I’d never heard before. He didn’t raise his voice in volume, but he somehow compounded it with intensity, with a threat so invisible but so obvious.
His eyes remained locked on mine, so steady he seemed robotic. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice was gentle but still had a bite to it. His blue eyes seemed apathetic, even a little frustrated. He’d been in tears just minutes ago, but now he possessed the emotional range of a brick. “But I will.”
All the fire that burned inside me was snuffed out by the threat. The way he said it with such conviction, the way he said it with a subtle plea, the way he stared at me like his guns were aimed at my head.
“An apology doesn’t excuse what I’ve done. I realize that. But I’m a changed man, and there’s only one woman I want—that’s you. We’re going to stay in this marriage. We’re going to work at this marriage. And we’re going to make it.”
I was scared. Scared in a way I’d never been. “You don’t just get to decide?—”
“Yes, I do.” His voice rose slightly. “You’re staying. And that’s final.”
“I’m leaving you?—”
“I meant what I said!” Now he raised his voice, the first time he yelled. “Please don’t make me hurt you.”
I breathed hard. And harder. I didn’t know how my face looked, but it must have been the color of concrete because I was so sick and so scared…fucking scared. “You—you are a psychopath.”
All he did was stare.
Did Bolton have multiple personalities, and I just never knew? At the restaurant with Theo, he’d seemed like a different person. When we’d come home, he’d shown a side of him I’d never seen. I’d just assumed he was angry and expressive, but I didn’t think he was capable of this.
“Make dinner.” He rose from the chair and walked to the coffee table. There was a gun strapped underneath, and he dismantled it piece by piece just the way he had with the gun at the dining table, leaving the parts on the surface. “By the time you’re done, I’ll be done with this.”
I had been scared when those men broke in to the apartment in the dead of night.
But I was far more scared now, scared of my own husband.
When Bolton was asleep, I grabbed my phone to call the one person who could help me. He’d promised he would always take my call, and I hoped he meant that. I searched for his name in my text messages, but it was gone. I tried to pull it up in my contact list, but it was gone from there too.
Bolton had deleted it.
I stood downstairs and held the phone with shaky hands, feeling my stomach drop when I realized my lifeline had been taken from me. I checked my phone again to find his name, even though I knew it was gone. The only way I could talk to Theo was if I went to his house directly.
I eyed the counter where my keys sat and grabbed them, ready to leave all my valuables behind and flee. I turned around to head to the garage, smacked into a wall, and bounced back.
It was Bolton. He was a handsome man with a handsome face and crystal-blue eyes, but he looked like a demon with horns now. He was surrounded by fire and ash. All he needed was a scythe, and he’d look like the devil himself. He grabbed my wrist with unnecessary force and pried the keys from my closed fingers. “What did I say?” He tossed the keys on the counter.
“You can’t keep me here.”
“Watch me.”
I eyed the knives on display on the counter.
“Please don’t make me hurt you.”
I called his bluff and lunged for them.
He made good on his words and slammed me so hard into the fridge that I bounced off it then dropped to the floor, landing hard on my shoulder and making it pop. The force of his hit knocked the wind out of me, caused pain to radiate across my lower back from the collision. The event only lasted a second, but time slowed down and made it drag on indefinitely.
I remained on the floor, in pain and shock.
Bolton didn’t help me up.
I still couldn’t believe that had actually happened—even though I was crumpled on the floor. I sat up and looked up at him, seeing him standing there with his hands clenched by his sides.
I didn’t stand up. I didn’t know what to do.
He stepped forward.
I flinched.
Then he extended his hand to pull me up. “I hope that’s the last time I have to do that.”
I didn’t take his hand. I dragged my body across the tile until my back hit the cabinets.
He withdrew his hand. “You can go to work and the grocery store. Try to go anywhere else…and you won’t be able to go anywhere at all.”
When I got to work the next morning, it was the first time I’d been alone.
Truly alone.
And that was when my predicament really hit me. I’d sat alone at the dining table and cried about my cheating husband, and now I was a hostage to a very powerful man. It had flipped so fast that my mind couldn’t comprehend it. Bolton was a cheater and a liar, but I’d never thought he was capable of this.
Was I an idiot for not seeing it? Should I have assumed he was dangerous since he killed people? Was I stupid for thinking he would never be dangerous to me? I stared at my blank computer screen and just breathed, grateful that nobody came in when we first opened. My back still hurt from my collision with the fridge. I felt like I’d been in a car accident and my vehicle flipped into a ditch.
I didn’t know what to do.
When I’d reached for that knife, I didn’t think he’d actually hurt me.
But he did.
I continued to stare at the screen, the tears burning my eyes, the terror and self-pity swallowing me whole.
“Fuck…what am I going to do?”
Bolton’s men watched me everywhere I went. If I walked to a coffee shop, they would watch me. If I drove to Theo’s house, they would intercept me before I could step onto his property. I grabbed the mouse and typed in his name, knowing nothing was a secret on the internet. He might have an email listed somewhere or even a dating profile on an app.
But there were no results at all, at least not for him.
I found other men with the same name, but they were all old. A couple obituaries. He’d wiped himself clean from the internet. It was as if he wasn’t a person.
Bolton was home.
Anytime I was in the house with him, I couldn’t breathe.
I stepped into the kitchen and looked inside the fridge, pretending to look for something to make for dinner, when in reality, I was just taking a moment to accept his presence.
“Astrid.”
He was right behind me. “Yes?”
“Look at me.”
My hand was still on the door, and I forced myself to close it before I turned to face him.
He was on the other side of the island, as if that would make me more comfortable. “I don’t want it to be this way.”
All I could do was stare.
“I didn’t want to hurt you yesterday.”
I was still frozen solid, too scared to speak or move under a predator’s gaze.
“Astrid.”
“What?”
“I said I don’t want it to be this way.”
“What do you expect me to do?” My voice came out as barely a whisper. “My shoulder is fucked up, and my back still hurts.”
Compassion moved into his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want an apology.” Not from a psychopath. “I want to leave.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen.”
I started to breathe hard all over again, an animal locked in a cage, desperate to be free. “How long do you expect to do this? This will be exhausting for you at some point. Constantly watching me. Constantly threatening me. Why do you even want me if it’s under these terms?”
“Because it won’t always be under these terms,” he said. “We’ll go back to normal eventually.”
“Trust me, we won’t.”
“It takes time, but every prisoner embraces his cell at some point.”
Had he kept people prisoner before?
“I don’t want anyone else but you. In time, I’ll prove that to you and earn your trust again.”
“Your fidelity is the least of my concerns right now, Bolton. I’m just trying to stay alive.”
“I said I would hurt you, but I would never kill you.”
“That’s sweet.”
His eyes narrowed. “Give me another chance, and we can go back to our lives.”
I couldn’t lie, not even to save my own neck. “No.”
“Astrid—”
“You threw me against the refrigerator.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“But you did. You aren’t only a cheater and a liar, but you’re an abuser too. I don’t even know you.”
“I’m not an abuser. I’ve never once hit you in the years we’ve been together.”
“And you’re a kidnapper too.”
“I just want to make this marriage work.”
“It’s dead, gone, and buried, Bolton. Sorry I missed you at the wake.”
His hands went to the surface of the island. “This is happening. So you may as well get on board with it.”
“I may as well call the police.”
“Call them.” He said it simply, but there was a veiled threat there. “Call them. See what happens. But I’ll have to hurt you a lot worse than I did last night. And as I said before, I really don’t want to do that.”
I thought the devil’s eyes were red, but they were bright fucking blue.
After a long stare, he withdrew his hands from the island. “Do you need help with dinner?”
“No.” I never wanted to eat again.
He left the kitchen and returned to the living room.
I stood there, breathing harder now that he was in the other room, the imminent danger gone…but truly only a few feet away instead.
Most people dreaded being at work.
For me, it was my safe place.
The place where I got to be alone with my thoughts, when Bolton was elsewhere, either at the house or at headquarters, miles away from me. I knew his men were outside watching the gallery the entire time I was there. Sometimes I saw two men sitting in a car across the street when I had lunch at the café down the block, and I suspected they worked for Bolton.
I was suffocated, but at least not by him.
I stared at my computer screen and left the emails from clients unopened. My mind disassociated from my reality, and I let it float in a haze, let it decompress. I was exhausted from not sleeping, stiff as a board beside Bolton through the night. I’d tried to sleep in a guest room, but he’d made it clear that he would repeat the fridge incident if I tried.
How did my life become this?
I remembered that Theo’s butler George had emailed me inquiring about artwork, but when I looked through my emails, I saw it had already been deleted. I usually cleaned out my inbox at the end of every day to keep it tidy. I didn’t realize at the time how much that email could help me.
It was almost lunchtime, and I would probably go to the same café I always visited. But then a thought came to me.
The restaurant where Theo first took me was just a few blocks from the gallery.
And he owned that restaurant.
Quick thoughts darted across my mind as my plan formed. I could walk down there at lunchtime. Bolton’s men would follow me, but they would stay outside in the car and watch the entrance. They probably didn’t know Theo owned the place. I doubted Bolton knew that, and if he did, he wouldn’t have mentioned it to his men. The only place they were probably told about was Theo’s residence.
My pulse pounded in my neck as the tension settled across my shoulders. The adrenaline was instant, like I was about to sprint for it. If Bolton did know that was Theo’s restaurant, he would do more than shove me against the fridge.
But fuck it, I was going for it.
I wanted to leave the gallery the second I thought of the idea, but I had to wait until lunchtime to make my babysitters believe I was just going out to lunch. I put up the sign that said the office was closed for the hour and walked a couple blocks to the restaurant. It’d only been open for an hour, but it was already packed, the tables outside full of people.
I walked inside and glanced behind me, wondering if the car that followed me everywhere would find street parking so they could keep an eye on me. When I entered, the host asked if I wanted a table for one.
I had an unusual request, but I went for it. “I know this is really strange, but I need you to call Theo. It’s important. Tell him that Astrid really needs to speak with him.”
He gave me the blankest look. “I’m sorry? Theo?”
“The owner of the restaurant.”
He still looked confused. “Um, I’m sorry. I don’t know who the owner is.”
Shit. Theo probably hired someone to do everything for him. I’d bet most people had no idea what he even looked like. “Can I speak to the manager?” The manager must know. Someone paid them to be here full time.
The host left and entered the back kitchen.
I stood off to the side so other people could be helped as I waited. It took minutes for him to come back, this time with a woman.
“You needed to speak to the owner?” she asked. “I apologize, but I can’t give out his contact information.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “Could you just ask him to come down here? Tell him that Astrid needs to speak to him.”
The look she gave me… She thought I was crazy.
“I know how weird this looks, but it’s a super-long story. I don’t have my phone to call him, but I can’t go to his place because…I just can’t. I’m running out of time. Could you please just tell him I need him? It’s important.”
“I’m sorry, but I think you should leave?—”
“Please.”
“Ma’am, if I bother him with this, I’ll lose my job.”
“I promise you won’t. Trust me, he’ll come. Tell him it’s Astrid. And ask him to come in through the back.”
She continued to give me that uneasy stare.
“I’m not a crazy ex. I’m not some weirdo after his money.”
“Then what are you? Why can’t you call him?”
“Like I said, it’s a long story, and my lunch break is only forty-five minutes at the most. Just do it, please. You’re far more likely to get fired by not helping me when I need it, so please just call him.”
That seemed to give her the push she needed because she turned away. “Alright…”
I waited in the office, away from the windows where I couldn’t be seen by the guys in the car outside. There was a desk and shelves shoved full of binders and papers. It was tidy but still chaotic.
I leaned against the desk with my arms crossed over my chest, glancing at the time every few minutes, looking out the open door into the hallway that led to the kitchen. A dark mass moved into my vision, and it took a second for my eyes to accept that it was him. He rounded the corner, dressed in black jeans and a t-shirt, even though the weather was shit today. His hair was still slightly damp, either because he’d just gotten out of the shower or because it was sprinkling outside.
My heart gave a jolt at the sight of him. I pushed off the desk and wanted to launch myself straight into his arms, the place I never should have left.
He didn’t have the same reaction to me. He seemed annoyed, even hostile. He shut the door behind him and blocked out the sounds of the kitchen and the chatter from the dining room. “What is it, Astrid?” His voice was deep like I remembered, like a hum buried in the wilderness. But it wasn’t warm with the blanket of affection he usually wrapped around me like a scarf. “Are you alright?”
I could launch into a long tale of my life over the last few weeks, but only a single word came out. “No.” The longing for him was like a tornado that nearly ripped my clothes from my body. I wanted to crumple into his arms and stay there forever. “You were right about everything. You had Bolton down to a T.”
Sympathy didn’t move into his eyes. They were still dark and inanimate like bullets. “I’m sorry.” He said the words, but there was no fire or sincerity to them. The phrase sounded the way it sounded coming from everyone else, like he was just saying it. “Why didn’t you just call me?”
“He deleted your number from my phone, and he’s watching my messages and phone calls.”
He gave a slow nod. “That’s rich.”
“When he went to work, he left his tablet behind…and I saw that he’d been seeing this woman for a long time. He made me feel like shit for being emotionally invested in you, but he did the exact same thing.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“So I decided to leave him, and?—”
“Astrid.” His tone changed, turning clipped and annoyed, like he didn’t want to be there. “I don’t want to be a dick, but also I don’t want to waste any more of our time after we’ve already wasted so much.”
I nearly flinched at the callous statement.
“You picked him. You made that clear in no uncertain terms. I warned you about the kind of man Bolton was, and you didn’t believe me. I care for you deeply—always have and always will. But I won’t be second best. I won’t be the alternate choice.”
“You—you aren’t second best, Theo.”
“It seems that way. Now that you’ve finally run your marriage into the ground, you want to jump ship. But my ship has already sailed. I pursued you, not once, but twice—and there’s only one woman I’ve ever given that kind of effort. I want to be with a woman because I won her, not because the other guy forfeited.”
“Theo, I did choose you. I left him and wanted a relationship with you, and then you dumped me the next morning?—”
“I’m so fucking tired of hearing that,” he snapped. “Yes, that happened, but lots of shit happened afterward.” He started to count on his fingers. “I apologized. I explained. And I pursued.” He dropped his hand. “I told you about my wife, for fuck’s sake. You think anyone knows about that? You think the guys down at the Underground know that? No. I put everything on the line, and you still said no. So don’t sit there and act like you chose me and that’s the full story.”
“I did choose you—and you took Bolton’s deal.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re going to hold that against me? Trying to get my brother’s fucking body back?—”
“I’m not holding it against you.” I’d expected to be saved, to feel safe in his arms, not be yelled at and ripped to shreds. “But that’s what you chose. You broke my heart and tore me apart, and that set up the chain of events that have led us to this moment?—”
“What’s led us here is you chose wrong,” he said coldly. “You chose to fix a marriage that’s been broken since you said I do. You chose to bury your head in the sand. You chose a shitty guarantee over a golden risk—and you chose wrong.”
I took a slow breath, my walls crumbling as he tore them down.
“I won’t be the second choice.”
My eyes dropped as I started to drown. I needed to fight for air, but my pain was so heavy that I’d rather sink to the bottom of the ocean until my lungs burst. I wished I could tell him all the things I’d felt but never said. The way he made my heart sing like birds in spring. The burns on my fingertips from touching his fire. The peace he brought to my frantic heart. But I couldn’t string the words together, not when Theo looked at me like…like he hated me. So I let the words die with me, tucked them into the sleeve of my heart to take to the grave. When he rejected me so coldly, I didn’t want to ask for anything, didn’t want to burden him with my problems when he didn’t even want to look at me. I felt the tears burn my eyes as I became suffocated by his hostility.
“Why are you crying?” His words weren’t vicious, but they weren’t gentle.
I inhaled a deep breath to stop the tremors.
“Astrid, that’s not going to work.”
My eyes found his, pausing at the accusation. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve moved on. I’m seeing other people. So you can stop the dramatics. You were fine letting me go before.”
The only thing keeping me going this last week was Theo. If I could just get to him, then all my problems would be solved. But he broke his promise to me—again. He might have answered my call, but it wasn’t him on the line. It was someone else, someone who no longer cared, someone who resented me for bothering him.
He didn’t want to help me.
“I—I’m sorry for bothering you.” I stepped around him and moved to the office door. The second it opened, I heard the sounds of the restaurant again, dishes and silverware clattering, people talking…living their lives.
Instead of leaving the restaurant, I stepped into the bathroom and barricaded myself inside a stall. I sat on the toilet seat and crossed my arms over my chest, wanting to sob my heart out but knowing I didn’t have the time. I had to get back to the gallery and unlock the doors. I had to act like everything was normal, that I’d just gone out to lunch for a salad and a soup.
When I got back to work, I could cry all I wanted.
I finally left the bathroom and stepped into the hallway, my heart hoping that Theo was there, ready to apologize for the way he acted. I looked at the office and hoped to see him standing there, but he was gone.
He left me there.