28. Caelia
Mattia’sunusually quiet as he follows me to the shower. As we wash each other, I cannot resist kissing him. His lips are addictive. Just when I thought things couldn’t become more complicated, my husband made love to me instead of simply fucking me. No, that stopped being enough for him. He’s set on showing me all the different sides of him until I am foolish enough to fall for one of them. His arm is scratched, but he dismisses my concern when I examine it closer—a lump forms in my throat and a strange feeling in my stomach. The thought of him being hurt is unbearable. He once told me that the truth remains true, even if no one believes it, even if I don’t. But he forgot to mention what happens when even I can’t tell what the truth is any longer. Do I still hate him? Yes. I will always hate him. I have no forgiveness to offer for what he did to me in the past. But hating someone doesn’t exclude other feelings. I can’t get out of this soon enough.
Back in bed, resting my head on his chest while his fingertips gently caress the naked skin of my back, I ask him what happened.
“Nothing. Go to sleep.”
I suppose some things will never change. I will forever be excluded from this part of his life. And I was okay with it before tonight. While waiting, I had plenty of time to reflect on my reaction. When I heard the gunshots, I wanted to go back inside the mansion because I feared for his life—foolish me. I need to create distance between us before it’s too late. But the cold truth is that I have begun to care about him. Enough to prioritize his life over mine.
“What’s wrong?” He asks me when I shift.
“Nothing. Go to sleep.” I echo his words back at him.
“Caelia, talk to me.”
I stand up, clutching the sheet to my chest. He follows me, wrapping an arm around my waist. I don’t know why this angers me so much. I won’t be a part of his life for much longer, but it still bothers me. He keeps everything locked away inside, never fully letting me in. Some things have changed, but some have not. Deep down, a part of Mattia will always remain the same. All he did was stop abusing me and return my fundamental human rights, and here I am, content to share a bed with him.
“The same way you talk to me?” I scoff.
“Where is this coming from?” I wish I had the answer. This is not a real marriage. It never has been. It’s simply playing house with my attractive husband, who occasionally shows me his kind side. “You made your intentions clear, Caelia. I’ve accepted your terms and conditions. This will be a loveless, childless marriage. I don’t even trust the people who love me, and you expect me to ... what? Talk to you about what’s going on? The woman who clearly stated she’d dance on my grave?”
He told me he didn’t trust anyone. This foolishness is my doing.
“You’re right. Forget I asked.”
I don’t blame him. I did this to myself. I deluded myself with this idea of happiness, knowing it wouldn’t last. And now I see it. I see where we’re headed, and I can’t allow it. I let him fool me into a false sense of security, forgetting that we would never be equals. I’m simply the woman who warms his bed at night. I’m not his friend. I’m not his confidante. Whatever I felt when we danced was an illusion. Nothing more.
“I will not forget that you asked.” He stands, taking his slacks from the floor. I watch him dress in a hurry. “I’m just thinking that the rules of this marriage are not clear enough for you.”
“Oh, but they are. You started by assaulting me, and then you flipped the page. You gave me back everything you had no right to take from me in the first place, and I’ve fucked you willingly. Damn, I even enjoyed it. But this will never be real between us.”
“Because I’ll never talk business with you or because you can’t forgive me?”
“Both. You’ll never trust me. And I get that. I’ll never trust you either, Mattia. But all we’re doing is trying to make an impossible situation work. But it’s not real. Deep down, we both know it.”
He turns on the lamp on the nightstand. I expect to see anger on his face, but it reveals nothing. It’s more unsettling than it used to be. I can’t decipher whether he’s angry, disappointed, or indifferent.
“So you’re telling me nothing was real over the last few months? Because I was there too, Caelia. You told me you could’ve loved me.”
“I don’t know what’s real and what’s not. I can’t tell anymore. And I could’ve never loved you. I can’t love you.” I shake my head. “It was a lie.”
“Can’t or don’t want to?” he questions.
Both. Is this what he expects from me? Love in exchange for his secrets? I don’t care about his secrets. He can guard them with his life, as he always has. We are two different people. We may be married, but we lead separate lives. Love is not a price I’m willing to pay for his secrets.
“Perhaps we should go back to how things used to be.”
“I can’t fucking believe you right now! Are you seriously saying this to me?”
His words slice through me, and I regret uttering them the moment they escape my lips. It’s a lie—it’s all a lie. It makes no sense. I’m falling for a man who has been so terrible to me—a man who has haunted my nightmares and treated me like garbage for so long. But deep down, I knew it the moment I wanted to go inside after him. I’m falling for him.
“At least back then, things made sense. I knew what to expect. I hate this fucking confusion I’ve been living in these past few months.”
“If this is what you want, then so be it.”
He storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
I lie in bed, hoping to fall asleep before I fall apart.