35. Vince
Vince
All night she cried. All night. Until she eventually passed out. I forced myself to stay out here. I’d never felt so fucking helpless. And I hated it.
I lit another cigarette. It was the middle of the afternoon, and I wasn’t sure if she was still asleep or if she was hiding in the bedroom from me. I’d let her hide from me, if it meant she wasn’t crying.
Tossing the empty cigarette packet to the side, I looked up when I saw movement.
I’d never seen her like this. So fragile. So broken. That same helpless feeling rushed through me.
“Do you mind if I um borrow this shirt?” she rocked back and forth on her feet, staring at me.
She looked genuinely concerned that she would be in trouble for wearing it. For years, she wore my tops like they were her own.
I nodded.
“Thanks.” She walked around the back of the couch. I noticed that last night too. This new habit she had of keeping furniture between us.
I took the cigarette from my mouth. “What happened to your arm?” I watched her at the kitchen island. Her back to me. But I could tell from here she was tense.
“An accident.”
“Right. What happened?”
I couldn’t think of one reason why Madeline would have a burn that size on her arm, or how it could be considered an accident. She hated cooking. She hated fires.
She shrugged, pretending to fake interest in the food buffet.
I got up. Walking towards her. If she was going to fake interest in that food, I was going to make sure she ate it. “So, why didn’t your dad attend the wedding?”
I had never thought her father could hurt her. Each minute I spent with her, it was painfully fucking obvious he had punished her for what I had done to him. Which only made me want to take his other fucking hand.
“Oh. He died.” She picked up a bread roll, looking at me.
Had I heard her wrong? “What?”
“He died. six weeks ago.” She repeated. The lack of emotion really concerned me.
“How?”
“He refused to get treatment after well, you know and um,” she stared at me, well, it felt like she stared through me. “He got a really bad infection that spread and, well, um, he died.”
She was serious. He had actually died.
I shook my head. “When was the funeral?” How had this all happened without me knowing? Without any of us knowing.
“There wasn’t one. Mom joined this new religion, and um,” she started ripping the bread apart, “She held a very private burial that just her and my uncles attended.”
“You didn’t attend his funeral?”
“No. I didn’t go.”
Because of me. They had punished her because of me. How could they hold her responsible? I removed his hand. He was the stubborn bastard that chose not to get it treated.
“Whose decision was it for you not to attend the funeral?”
“Mom took his death really hard.” she dropped the bread roll to a plate and pretended she was finished eating it. “But I didn’t mind. Two funerals were enough.”
“Two funerals?”
“Aunty Diana overdosed after Nate's wake.” She pushed the plate away from her. “Zeke is pretty fucked up. Can I have that?”
I had no idea what she was pointing at. “What?”
“The vodka. Can I please have it?”
How many days had it been since she ate real food? I uncrossed my arms. “Sure, if you eat something first.”
Now that did cause her to look at me. Fuck. I had missed her. I’d take her annoyed or angry with me over nothing. I’d take anything over that blank, cold stare.
She placed a grape in her mouth, eating it and swallowing it.
“Good, keep going.”
“Only if we talk about something else.” Her fingers paused on the fruit. “Anything but my family, please.”
I nodded.
She looked instantly relieved, reaching for another grape.
“What happened to your engagement ring?” I had noticed it was missing yesterday.
“I lost it.”
Madeline was a terrible liar. But seeing she was seconds away from crying again, I wasn’t going to push for the real answer.
Gently, I touched her cheek, forcing her to look up at me. “I’ll get you another one,” wiping her tears away. “Or we could get that one made again, if you liked it that much.” I was trying to stop the crying, not make it worse.
Fuck. What did I do?
She shook her head. “It’s fine. I don’t need one. I have the wedding band.”
Now she is turning down jewelry. Someone had broken my wife. “It’s not fine with me. I want you to have one. So you’ll have one.”
“Can we talk about something else?” she closed her eyes. “Please?”
My luck so far, the next topic I picked would cause her to freak out again like last night. “Can I check your tattoo?”
She nodded. Pulling the shirt off, she turned. It looked fine. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep last night that fed my paranoia about it this morning.
As much as I loved seeing my name on her back, I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable. So, I helped her pull the shirt back on.
“How are your palms?” I reached for her hand, flipping it over. Tracing my thumb along side the cut.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to look at your brothers again.”
I frowned, “Why?”
“Did you forget about last night? Where they all saw me naked while you fucked me?”
“Witnessing you becoming a crow is considered an honor in our family.” I brushed her hair back. Red cheeks really did suit her. “They won’t treat you differently.”
Just the thought of her last night had my dick going hard.
“It doesn’t bother you that all of them saw us? Every person with the last name Crow watched us?”
Technically, every male born crow, and their wife or husband.
“No. I can bet every couple in that hall was reliving the night they had taken the vow.” Tracing my thumb along her bottom lip, “Because that is what I’ll be doing when we attend the next one.”
“You really enjoyed it, didn’t you?” she frowned, her lips slightly parted as if surprised.
I didn’t enjoy it.
“I fucking loved it. Claiming you was mine. Making you a crow.” My blood ran hot just thinking about it.
I wanted to consume her. The way she fucking consumed me for years. But for that to happen. I had to get her to look at me again.
“I’ll earn your forgiveness, and once I have it. I’ll never risk losing it.” Taking her hand, I kissed her knuckles. “Last night, you said you didn’t want to stay. I’ll make sure we’re gone by tonight. And I’ll give you your own room at our house.”
“You’d really do that?”
She could ask anything of me, and I’d somehow find a way to make it happen. I nodded. “I never want to see you that upset again, so. We’ll leave.”
“Isn’t that breaking an oath? You won’t get in trouble for it?”
I shrugged. “It should be fine.” Considering this oath was more meant to be for my benefit, I doubted I’d be held accountable.
Seeing that small smile on her face made the decision worth it.
“One more thing. You are not to touch yourself. Your pussy and clit, goes untouched.” My wife looks so good with flushed cheeks. “You’re mine. And you don’t have permission to touch. Understood?”
She nodded.
I kissed her forehead. “Let’s take you home.”