Chapter 17 – Marielle
I didn’t feel so sure as I planned our movie date.
Eduard had gone back to his distant style after we talked and even laughed like friends. The man was the most unreadable human I’d met in my whole life. He was open in a moment and so far-off in the next.
I had thought that his busy work schedule was probably the reason the last time, but I wasn’t so sure anymore.
He would send me snacks that I only mentioned to him once, and then disappear into his home office when he got back from work.
When he sent me a skimpy silk dress, I had been so excited to wear it for him.
I had felt so admired that he bought me a dress, the type he knew I liked.
But when he didn’t arrive until later at night, I canceled the idea.
If he wanted to see me in the dress, he wouldn’t have locked himself in the study.
I never bothered to thank him for the gifts or even mention them since we hardly talked. His tight expression had become a standard look, and his short responses to my greetings were just grunts.
When he arrived the night before, I didn’t bother greeting him.
It was of no use. It was only going to evoke that annoying feeling in me.
The same feeling was currently making me arrange snacks on the center table in the sitting room.
The feeling that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t actually distancing himself from me.
The feeling of a kind of likeness and even understanding toward him.
But that wasn’t the only reason behind my planning the movie date.
It was the fact that I wanted answers, needed them.
If he was going to distance himself from me, he had to do it with his full chest instead of hiding behind circumstances and opportunities.
I wouldn’t just sit in the bedroom and wait for him to bring up the movie date.
I wouldn’t try to comfort myself that it might have slipped his mind later at night.
I would ask him directly, face-to-face. If he had changed his mind for whatever reason, I wanted to hear it from him.
The sound of the front door opening made me drop the throw pillow in my hand on the couch. I went out of the sitting room, meeting him on the way to the stairs.
His men went ahead of him.
“It’s Saturday. We planned to watch movies,” I stated matter-of-factly.
But the defeated expression in his eyes made me drop my inner ammunition. He looked like a man who was pained about losing in a game. It tugged at my heart. I hated that he had that effect on me, but he did.
“Um…if you’re busy, it’s fine,” I conceded, shrugging casually.
His eyes flicked beyond me, to the sitting room. He probably saw the snacks on the table and the movie list on the smart television.
“I’ll change and be down soon,” he informed, his eyes back on me.
“No, you don’t have to. If you have…” I started before he interrupted.
“I’ll join you.”
Then he went up the stairs.
As I walked slowly back to the couch facing the TV, I couldn’t help but smile.
True to his word, Eduard came back before I knew it. Hair darkened and moist from having had a shower, he looked athletic and homely in black joggers and a matching T-shirt.
He sank beside me on the couch, face straight, letting out a loud breath.
I turned sideways.
“What do you prefer? Action?”
“You’re the movie person, remember? I’ll go with whatever you choose.”
It warmed my heart that he always remembered our conversations, not just the movie talk.
“Okay.”
I picked up the remote and clicked on a sci-fi movie, deeming it a middle ground for us.
I put two transparent packs of cookies on two small plates and handed him one as the opening credits rolled on the screen.
“Thanks,” he whispered as he relaxed into the couch, placing the plate on his lap.
I also sat back, digging into my cookies immediately.
“The Martian?” he asked, eyes not leaving the screen.
“Yes. But don’t ask for a spoiler. I don’t give spoilers.”
“What’s a spoiler?”
He brought his left arm around me, pulling me into him.
“Hm?” he prompted, bringing back my attention from his touch to his question.
“A spoiler is a hint at the end of a movie. Giving a spoiler means telling someone how the story ends.”
“That takes the fun out of the experience of watching, doesn’t it?”
“Exactly. But some people would beg for spoilers just to stop the tension.”
“I’d do without,” he declared.
I continued snacking on my cookies, but the snugness of his side against mine was too blissful to ignore. It felt warm and comfortable, like home.
We watched in silence for several minutes. Eduard’s eyes remained on the screen while mine occasionally darted toward him, even though I couldn’t exactly see his face.
“Do we have to see that part?” he asked, chuckling at the image of the astronaut’s naked body.
“It’s for us to see how hard it is for him up there. He’s malnourished.”
“I’d rather not see it,” he insisted.
I turned my head to face him.
“Eduard, are you homophobic?”
“I’m not. I don’t know. I just don’t appreciate the sight of his body.”
“You are homophobic,” I joked, laughing.
“All I know is that I like pretty women,” he dropped, squeezing me into him, successfully making my heart skip.
We settled into another comfortable silence.
His fingers made soft patterns on my arm so smoothly that it felt subconscious.
“I used to talk about wanting to be an astronaut,” I revealed, not knowing why.
“You wanted to be an astronaut? What changed your mind?”
“I came to the understanding that I didn’t want to be an astronaut. What I just wanted then was to piss my parents off, especially my mom. I just used to say it as an act of rebellion, just to assure them that I would never bend for them,” I explained.
“I assume it wasn’t just about youthful rebellion,” he remarked.
I shook my head against his body.
“They had a certain expectation, actually, certain expectations from me as the only girl. It was a heavy weight, a burden,” I disclosed, chuckling.
“My mom would nag me to no end if she found me playing video games with my brothers. She hated it whenever I threw things in anger or even yelled. She was all for what was proper, what was expected of a lady.”
I didn’t turn to him, but I knew he was listening.
“It didn’t help matters that I hated most girly things.
The things she called proper were boring and even stupid.
Growing up, I was a firecracker. When other kids kept quiet about something, I always spoke up.
And that brought me suspensions and other punishments a lot.
I changed schools many times, four different high schools.
My mom would taunt me with words, compare me with other docile girls, and even seize my phone. But it didn’t change anything.”
Sighing, I went on.
“When some classmates physically assaulted me, I decided to learn how to fight. I eventually learnt MMA, even though my mom almost had a heart attack over it. I hated the feeling of being helpless. Even with my siblings, I never belonged. I was always in my corner, even though we all lived together. It was like I lived a life that was beyond their understanding. When I went with my college choice instead of the community college they’d chosen for me, they told me I was on my own. ”
“They disowned you?” he inquired.
“I guess not. They just…left me.”
“Parents are a blessing and a curse. Seems there are no exceptions,” he expressed.
“Similar childhood?”
“Not really. But there were set expectations and, even though I met them, things always felt conditional with my father. My mother was the balance, but she died when I was still a teenager, so….”
He let his words hang. I didn’t push.
“Well, you’re a lord yourself now,” I remarked, trying to lighten the mood.
He chuckled, and I found myself wondering if it was just to humor me.
“He looks like he’ll make it back,” he mentioned after a silent minute.
“No spoilers, remember?”
“True.”
A pack of cookies, Eduard’s pack, was the only survivor by the time the movie ended.
When he made no move to release me, I turned to ask, “So, did you enjoy the movie?”
“Surprisingly, I did.”
“Enough to ditch chess for movies?” I pressed.
“Never.”
I laughed.
“But I like this. All of this,” he confessed, his voice solemn.
“I aim to please.”
He brought his face closer to mine.
“You please me, baby. Too much.”
Then his lips came down on mine.
It was slow and deliberate. His lips moved over mine, savoring like he had all the time in the world. He moved me to his lips. My fingers got lost in his impossibly soft hair, and I felt his chest rumble as I tugged softly.
As he broke the kiss, and I opened my eyes, a fear overtook me.
This might be the start of another withdrawal phase. I noticed I felt a sort of pain at the thought of him pulling away from me again.
I feared that I might not be able to take it. That I might lose all my pride and beg.
***
Was I right?
That was the question on my mind on Monday night. Eduard was hardly home, and it was making me wonder if he had decided to distance himself after the lovely movie date.
He stepped out of the bathroom and moved to his side of the bed, not acknowledging me in the least.
I moved closer to him as his back hit the bed.
He looked at me, his eyes asking a silent question.
I placed my hand on his chest, lowering my lips to his.
“Marielle,” he murmured against my lips.
When his hand held mine, stopping me from exploring his chest, I broke the kiss.
“It’s not time yet,” he stated, his voice sounding like a plea. And a lie.
“Not even when I tell you I’m ready? That I want this?”
“Goodnight, Marielle.”
He twisted his body around, giving me his back.
I shifted back to my position, covering myself up.
I was right.
He was actively distancing himself from me. I felt how his body stiffened against mine, saw how his eyes roamed, heard the struggle in his voice. It wasn’t just work or circumstances. He was choosing to be distant.
Two can play, Eduard.
***
I was casually walking down the balcony hall when I spotted Eduard downstairs.
He was talking to a tall, slender, silver-blonde lady who looked like she belonged on the cover of a Russian fashion magazine.
There was nothing remarkable about seeing Eduard; his face was unreadable, and his jaw was tight as usual.
It was everything about her that made me want to throw hands.
Her sequined dress screamed old money. But it was the way she looked at him and how close she stood to him. She looked too comfortable around him. It was like they had known each other all their lives. It made me feel like an outsider.
I lost it when she brought her slim hand to his chest playfully, almost innocently.
I walked toward them.
My voice icy, tone cold, I bit out, “Don’t let me disturb your reunion.”
The woman’s cold smile turned into a smirk as she walked away. I took a step to do the same when Eduard’s hand grabbed my waist.
My back came in contact with the wall as he questioned, “Jealous?”
“You wish!” I spat.
I pushed his chest to get away, but he grabbed my wrists, pinning me.
“You think I want her? Or anyone else?”
His voice was raspy and low.
He brought my waist against his lower body as he kissed me ferociously. I didn’t kiss back.
His tongue forced its way into my mouth as his hand rubbed against my pussy through my joggers. My body quivered, but I refused to give in. I was too pissed to. His other hand grabbed my breast and rolled my nipple.
When he bent to kiss my neck, I pushed against him and got out of his hold.
“Go look for an unstable jerk like yourself. I’m not interested,” I remarked, my voice bitter.
Still trembling, I walked out of his sight and went into the bedroom.
I went into the bathroom, trying to slow my breaths as I held onto the sink.
I don’t care.
But what I told myself didn’t explain the anger burning inside of me. The picture of that lady talking to him like they were a thing still made me tighten my fist. It contradicted what I was telling myself. And that was frustrating.
Even if I didn’t like it, it didn’t change the fact that thinking of Eduard with another woman affected me.
It filled me with fury that he would touch another woman.
I couldn’t help but contrast how he stopped my hands a few nights ago with how he let her touch him tonight.
It made me feel hurt and defeated, even though he didn’t deserve it.
A part of me wanted to hear the bedroom door open. But he didn’t come back. And it made my heart drop.
As I stared at my reflection in the mirror, I wondered where he was. I wondered what he was doing and, more specifically, with whom.