11. Chapter 11
Chapter 11
-Kace-
C ody was shaking his head, looking very disappointed in me. But how could I not ask? It was a serious thing if my wife had stalker tendencies.
“What?” I asked when he kept shaking his head.
“That’s so insensitive.”
“Yeah, but if she really stalks, shouldn’t we talk about it? Shouldn’t I get her some therapy?” I questioned.
“It’s a sensitive subject you just brought up. And let me guess, you did it in the Kace-way?” he shot back.
“What the fuck is the Kace-way?” I asked, now confused.
“The insensitive way.”
“I thought you didn’t like her because of those rumors!”
“No, I never said I didn’t like her. I don’t know her, but I know my friend, and I want him to be happy,” he explained.
“I was just trying to figure out if it was true,” I defended.
“And there are a thousand different ways you could have done that. Tell me, did she go off on you again?” he asked, expecting that.
“No, that’s what is weird. She grew so pale and walked away without a word.”
Cody seemed more intrigued now, but also very confused.
“What?” he asked.
“Yeah, she just walked out of here not long before you showed up,” I revealed.
“Well, what did you say?”
“I told her that she couldn’t keep up the stalking now that she was married to me,” I explained.
“Wow, you’re a dick,” he chuckled.
“Come on! I can’t have my wife stalking people!”
“But you just said you didn’t know if it was true. Maybe ask her!” he exclaimed.
“I did!” I defended.
“No, you told her not to do it, meaning you just confirmed to her that you believe in the rumors,” he explained.
“I was trying to get a reaction.”
“I know, because you expected one, but she didn’t give you one. At least not the one you had hoped for.”
“And what had I hoped for?” I retorted.
“A confirmation,” he clarified.
“That she stalks?” I asked, not believing that for a second.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t actually believe Annabella is that different, or maybe you think she is different, but then she must have some other flaw in her that makes her unattractive, like stalking,” he pointed out.
“Hmm…” I thought about what he was saying. Maybe he had a point. Maybe I was looking a bit too hard for flaws.
“Maybe be less of a dick?” he suggested.
“I was just trying to figure out the truth,” I reminded him.
“Ask her,” he said.
“Fine, I will ask her.”
“If she wants to talk to you again,” he chuckled.
“You’re enjoying this, huh? I thought you hated the idea,” I countered.
“I did, but seeing you sweat like this because of your wife simply brings me happiness.”
“I'm glad my pain is so enjoyable,” I retorted.
“Oh, it is indeed, my friend,” he laughed.
Cody didn’t stay for long, and I continued my work, but as the hour grew late, the sun setting, and I was still working, I began thinking about my day and about the things Annabella and I had talked about.
As I replayed it, I could see what Cody had been talking about. I had been an asshole. Grabbing the ring still lying on my table, I studied it a little, turning it and wondering what made it special.
That’s when I noticed something engraved on the inside. I turned on the lamp on my desk, making sure to hold the ring underneath it. It was a bit hard to see because the ring had been used for so long, but I did make out the BF initials.
First, I thought it was a name, but then I realized it was a best friend ring. Who had given her this jewelry, and why did she not want to wear it anymore?
My wife really was becoming quite the mystery, but I was excited to see where this was going. However, I was going to solve this mysterious gift. But it was too late for that now, and instead I went to bed.
I had hoped that when I woke up, Annabella would come to get me again. She had seemed adamant about making this work, and I was willing to put in the effort as well, but she never came to find me.
It made me curious, and so I went looking. Mariam had once again set everything up outside, but no one was sitting there. Mariam walked by me as I was looking outside.
“Can I help, sir?” she asked.
“Where is Annabella?” I inquired.
“Oh, she is in her room. She didn’t have dinner either,” she explained to me.
“What?”
“Yeah, she skipped dinner, and I have not seen her all morning, so I'm expecting her to still be there,” she explained.
I turned my chair, rolling toward where her room was. I knocked, wanting to figure out what was going on, but no one answered. It was very confusing.
I grabbed the handle, warning her that I was coming inside, but as I entered, I found nothing. The bed was made, and she was not in her closet or bathroom. Did she give up that fast?
I huffed a little. Should have been expected , I thought to myself. I rolled away, thinking that concluded it and I should find myself a new wife, but I still felt compelled to look around just to be sure she was nowhere to be found.
She was not by the pool or in the living room. She could have gone upstairs, of course, but just as I was about to reach the other end of the house, I heard loud music—violently loud music. It sounded like metal rock, and it was coming from the door at the end of the hallway.
I knew what was behind the door, but I simply couldn’t believe that she was there. It seemed too out of character for her. But, of course, what did I truly know about Annabella?
I rolled closer before I opened the door to my private gym. It wasn’t big since I was one person, so it was easy to find my wife. She was punching a punching bag over and over, completely uncoordinated and doing strange punches.
It was clear she had never done this before, but it was rather amusing to watch while metal played over the speakers.
She was dressed in training clothes that showed off her curvy body, and I certainly enjoyed the sight. Yet I could see from the way she was punching and groaning that she was pissed.
She was imagining someone , I thought, and I believed I knew who she was punching. However, soon, she grew tired and leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees. But I didn’t comment as she took off her boxing gloves and then turned to me.
“Oh, great!” she snapped.
“I said nothing,” I chuckled.
She looked away and went to grab her water bottle.
“Have you ever boxed before?” I asked her.
“No…” she replied.
“Do you go to the gym regularly?”
“No…” She looked away, and I rolled closer to her. But she refused to look at me and took a seat on a small bench.
“Why are you here then and not eating?” I inquired.
“I just needed…” she trailed off.
I knew what she needed. I could discern it from her expression.
“Listen…” I began.
“No, actually, I don’t want to talk to you, so can you just go?” she asked me, sounding hurt.
“Annabella—”
She continued to look away from me.
“Could you turn?” I requested.
She ignored me, and I was getting tired of this.