30. Caelia
Domenico kindly boughtme a calendar to help me keep track of time. It has been twenty-seven days since I last saw my husband. He has done this before, plunging me into this dark abyss of terror and nightmares. This time feels different. A violent wave crashed down on me, and I felt like I was drowning. I should be stronger than this, or at least I thought I was. It has been a while since I could find any trace of strength within me.
Has he finally managed to break me?
I didn’t leave the bedroom until Domenico dragged me out of bed. I’m sure his duties don’t include making sure I shower and eat, but he needs to keep me alive, so he must be following Mattia’s instructions. Domenico is not my friend; he is merely an employee. Yet he is also the only person I have interacted with in almost a month. He comes and goes, but he never stays away for too long. Domenico doesn’t do the shopping; groceries are delivered. Some clothes were bought for me. I have no contact with the outside world. Does Cosima think I’m dead? We were supposed to meet after the ball, but I never called her. I have no phone, and Mattia made it clear before he left that we’re back to square one.
My only consolation is that he doesn’t keep me locked away in a basement somewhere. I’m still in a cage, but I’m not cold or hungry.
I’m allowed to cook, watch TV, and read. Mattia continues to provide for me more than he did before. If I want something, I have to ask Domenico, and he will bring it for me. I suppose Mattia agrees with me that I need to stay on the pill in case he returns to assault me. Neither of us wants a child.
It was such a stupid fight. This is everything I can think of. If only I hadn’t asked what was wrong. If only I hadn’t gotten angry. I was so close to freedom. All I had to do was pretend a little longer, and I could have escaped by now.
“What are you doing?” Domenico asks as he enters the kitchen.
I’ve been staring at the knife blade for a while now. I don’t even know why. I told Mattia I was not suicidal, and I meant it. I’m willing to die for my freedom. If I ever manage to escape, I am aware that I will be hunted down and killed if I am found. That’s something I’m willing to die for. But I don’t want to take my own life.
“Just wondering if I should end my life,” I reply bitterly.
It takes him a second to knock the knife out of my hand.
“Don’t be stupid,” he growls.
“Someone’s on edge today. I was kidding, Dom. I’m just trying to make dinner.”
He frowns, his dark eyes analyzing me from head to toe, trying to read my mind. He doesn’t trust me. He shouldn’t. I still haven’t decided if I have it in me to kill him if the opportunity to run away ever arises and he stands in my way.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be allowed around knives anymore.”
“Why? Are you afraid I’m going to hurt you?”
“Either that or you’re going to hurt yourself, and Mattia is going to have my head.”
It’s the first time he has mentioned my husband. He has been a sore subject that I have avoided for as long as possible.
“Mattia?” I laugh. “He doesn’t care if I live or die, Dom. He’ll most likely end up killing me himself one day.”
I shouldn’t tell him this, but what else do I have to lose? What else can Mattia take from me that he hasn’t already taken? My life? That’s the only thing I have left. I refuse to blame myself for what happened. Like so many times before, I begged him to stop, but he didn’t. Because although he may have worn a different mask for a while, deep down, nothing has changed. He is not the hero of my story. I need to be my own hero. I have to save myself from this life.
“You’d be surprised,” Domenico mumbles.
I continue to chop the vegetables. I refuse to wither and perish under Mattia’s watch. I am determined to gain a few pounds by the time he returns. He may be my villain, but I won’t be his whore. He can treat me like one. He can take everything from me. But I won’t give him what he wants. I won’t end my life just because he can’t bring himself to do it. Not yet.
“I stopped being surprised a long time ago.”
“Do you love him?” Domenico asks. It’s a strange question.
Not as strange as the answer. I can’t just offer a straightforward denial. It has become complicated over the past few months. There were moments when I felt something for him. I refuse to untangle those feelings and face them for what they truly are. I’m afraid the answer will terrify me. I remember thinking I might fall in love with him, but I try to erase that memory. Yet, I can’t escape the fact that I miss him. I miss the parts of him that aren’t a monster. I miss that man.
“No,” I lie anyway.
“You were willing to risk your life and go back inside the house for him,” he says, reminding me of the most monumental screw-up in my judgment.
“That was before,” I whisper.
You’re my property, Caelia. You belong to me.
I don’t need your heart to break you.
Do you want to be fucked like a whore? I’ll fuck you like a whore.
I refuse to drown in self-pity. I’m strong enough to survive this, even if it doesn’t feel that way now. I have done it before. Nothing is different now.
“You’re wrong, you know,” Domenico says, sitting at the table. “Do you need any help with those?”
“No, thank you. Wrong about what?”
“That he doesn’t care if you live or die.”
“He certainly has a strange way of showing it.”
Do I care if he lives or dies? Once again, it’s not a simple answer. I want to see him dead, but if I had the chance, I would keep him. I would keep the man he showed me he could be.
“It’s his father’s birthday at the end of the week. There will be a party, and he wants you to attend.”
“Tell him to go fuck himself when you see him.”
“What do you have to gain from fighting him every step of the way?”
The knife slips from my hand, and I feel the sting of the cut as I watch the blood drip onto what was meant to be my dinner. Strangely enough, I feel nothing.
“This is what I get,” I scoff, turning toward the sink. I turn on the water, cleaning my finger. “All of this, Dom. Captivity.”
“Exactly my point,” I hear him mumble.
“You don’t know what he did to me, so don’t pretend to understand. We’ll never walk in each other’s shoes.” I wrap a clean towel around my finger, hoping to stop the bleeding.
We can still fix this, Wildfire.
My mind keeps returning to the words he said right before he abused me again. I’ll never find out if he meant it. If things could have differed from how they are now. I will drive myself crazy. Deep down, I know he meant it. He wanted to fix things between us. To talk about it. I ruined it, and I only have myself to blame.
“I’m not hungry after all,” I say, leaving the kitchen.
Domenico won’t let it go. Later, he would knock on my door with food, trying to convince me to eat something. I don’t know why he bothers. Why does he care? But Mattia must have threatened him with something if I were to die.
I try to see this as an opportunity. Mattia wants me to accompany him to the party.
This might be my only chance at freedom.