CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
I opened my eyes to the dark figure looming over me.
“Hello, Daisy.”
My lips spread. My voice sounded cracked and foreign to my ears as I croaked, “Oliver?”
There was no doubting the reverence in my tone. I wanted to cry, but there were no tears left. My body had been squeezed dry.
“I see you made it.”
I was too weak to nod. It took enormous effort to keep my eyes open, but something ignited inside me. Fear and adrenaline sparked at the sight of his ominous silhouette standing before me, inspecting me.
“Are you ready for your test?” he asked, his voice unreadable.
“Yes.”
He ignited a full lantern and set it on the ground next to me.
Too weak to move, I simply watched as he grabbed the barely used waste bucket and set it outside.
When he returned, he grabbed his wooden chair and settled it before me.
Then he leaned down and unzipped a duffle bag at his feet, removing a bottle of water and a tightly wrapped sandwich.
Moving to me now, he wrapped an arm around my waist and heaved me up so that I was sitting upright.
The touch of him—the scent of his spicy cologne—made me whimper.
“I know,” he cooed. “I missed you, too. God, I missed you, Daisy. Why do you do this to us?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but another weak sound escaped me. He hushed me gently as he unscrewed the water bottle and brought it to my lips. “Little sips.”
At first, the warm water did nothing. I couldn’t feel it as it hit my tongue, but I felt it slide down my dry throat, and I let out a soft groan. My body responded to the water, and I wanted more of it. Oliver allowed me to have half the bottle before he pulled it away. “You need to eat, Daisy.”
I didn’t protest, but my eyes followed the bottle as he rested it down beside us.
Then he reached for the sandwich and slowly removed the plastic wrap.
The smell of chicken and pepper hit my nose, and my empty stomach screamed.
I watched as Oliver tore off a piece of the sandwich and brought it to my lips.
“Open up, Daisy.” I did right away, and he slipped the food into my mouth.
It wasn’t just chicken and pepper. It was chopped onion and fresh tomato and grated old cheddar. I shut my eyes, savoring the taste.
“How have you been?” he asked gently.
“Empty,” I choked out, my scratchy voice filled with grief. “Alone. Terrified. I…I didn’t think you would return…”
“I will always return,” he vowed. “I told you that you were mine, did I not? I will always come back for what is mine, even if it hurts the both of us. Do you understand this now?”
I nodded, my eyes glistening. “I do.”
“I could have watched you wither away to dust…” He shook his head, dismayed by the thought.
“But then I would wither away, too. Wherever I am, you must be with me, too. It’s why I had to do this.
You must stay in line, Daisy. You can’t stray from what’s expected of you.
What I want for you…it’s what’s best for you. I thought we agreed on this.”
“We did, Oliver. I swear it.”
His face darkened as he searched my eyes.
“I’ve wanted nothing more than for you to bear my child.
A child whose body flows with my blood and my purpose.
I thought we were ready. I waited years.
And then this. You made a mockery of our marriage by lying to me.
Of all the things to lie to me about, this must be the very worst of them.
” He leaned forward, his voice tightening with his rage.
“It’s a miracle I’m still here, looking at you, allowing you to breathe so close to me.
But I’m more merciful than I thought and more merciful than you deserve. What do you have to say in response?”
“Believe me, Oliver, I wasn’t trying to hurt you by not bearing a child with you.
” Tears fell from my eyes as I searched his, imploring him to believe me.
“It’s that I’m so broken, I can’t risk having that child ripped from you because I’m too weak to carry it.
” My words tumbled out of me between broken sobs.
“I’m not vicious, Oliver, but I am a coward because I’m too scared to see you in grief and to know I’m the reason for it.
You wouldn’t want me. I wouldn’t be deserving of you even if you still did. That’s the truth.”
He didn’t respond for a long time. His indecipherable expression unnerved me. I looked down at my clasped hands, fighting the urge to glance at the sandwich in his hand.
“Did you read the book?” he finally asked, purposely leaving me hanging.
“I did.”
“I want you to prove it. Do you think you can do that?”
I let out an unsteady breath. “Yes, Oliver.”
He took a seat on the chair, distancing himself—and the food—from me. My stomach hurt so much, it felt like I’d swallowed knives. I squeezed my hands tighter, willing myself to stay calm.
“Alright, Daisy,” he said, leaning back. I could feel his imperious stare over every inch of me. “Begin chapter one.”
My stomach didn’t ache anymore, but I was still ravenous.
I drank three bottles of water and slept on the floor most of the afternoon.
Hours had slipped by, though it felt like moments.
By the time I woke up, the chains had been removed from me, and I was no longer in the lesson room.
Oliver had carried me out of the shed and to our bedroom of the cabin, though he’d deposited me on the floor because I was filthy.
The curtains had been drawn open, allowing the mid-afternoon sun in.
I stood up on wobbly, aching legs and moved to the window, knowing what I’d find.
Oliver was on the deck, sitting in his chair, reading.
I knew what was expected of me. I didn’t waste time.
I cleaned my corner and bathed. He’d already set aside my crisp, white nightgown on the bed.
There were no other traces of me. Wrapped in my towel, I looked down at the nightgown, the ominous significance of it dizzying me.
Just a nightgown.
Nothing else.
As though…as though he didn’t believe I’d make it. What would have happened if he’d come through the door and found me dead?
I moved back to the bedroom window and peered out into the wilderness that surrounded us.
What sustenance would my body have offered this piece of earth after he’d buried me deep in its soil?
I couldn’t imagine finding peace here. I would have been nothing but a disturbance to the trees and the wild; I’d have been an unrelenting echo, screaming against nature, determined to keep the imprint of my soul alive.
Who else is out there now, screaming into the void?
There would have been no rest in this place. If there was an afterlife, it wouldn’t find me here amidst the wicked, insidious demon that haunted his piece of earth, determined to possess every inch of it.
I couldn’t make any more mistakes. I had to cease trying to peek around the curtain to see what was on the other side.
I had to be perfect.
If I did what he wanted, I had a chance at a life.