3. Caelia
Mattia has been acting strangelyover the last two weeks. I haven’t spoken a word to him since the night he came back. I could get used to this. Deep down, I know it won’t last. The screaming and punching are due to start again any time now. There’s a knock on my door, causing me to jump out of my skin. I’m just lying in bed with a book on my lap, trying to learn some Spanish, but previous experience has taught me that anything is enough to set him off. This is how I’ve been spending all my free time: trying to learn new languages I’ll never get a chance to use and imagining places I’ll never be allowed to visit.
“Come in,” I respond, recognizing the futility of resisting him.
It’s pointless. I don’t have a lock on the door, and nothing will keep him out. If I don’t see him for extended periods of time, I sometimes forget what he looks like. I forget how his tailored suit drapes perfectly over his broad shoulders, how his hair never stays in place, and how his penetrating gray eyes cut through me. The shape of his impeccably chiseled jaw, his slightly crooked nose, as if it were broken multiple times and never properly set, the infuriating Cupid’s bow of his upper lip—it’s something I never noticed until now. Mattia stands tall, exuding an athletic build and a confident stride like a weapon. But I no longer cower as I once did.
“Have you had dinner already?”
His vocabulary is more extensive than I thought. I’ve never heard the word dinner come from his mouth.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Caelia,” he begins, but I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
He leaves the door ajar behind him, something he never does when he comes to abuse me. I still haven’t figured out if he’s doing it for my sake or his. His employees know what kind of man he is. They know what kind of marriage I’m into. They do nothing to help me, and I don’t expect them to. No one can save me but myself.
“Could you please join me for dinner? We can sit at opposite ends of the table if you prefer. Just come and have something to eat.”
My temples throb. I’ve spent too much time wondering about his endgame, and I’ve come up with nothing.
“I’m not hungry.” I know that repeating myself might make him mad, but I just don’t care. I stopped caring a while ago, and it doesn’t make my life any easier.
“Right.” He rubs his temples and takes a step closer to my bed.
I wish I could make myself smaller and invisible. Mattia settles on the edge of the bed, too close to my legs for comfort, and I flinch. He glances over his shoulder, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. The surrounding air feels tense, making me nauseous. I don’t understand the game he’s playing.
“Some things will change in this house.” His voice is dead-cold. “Starting now.”
“Like what?”
“First, we’re going to have dinner together every night.”
His cologne makes my nose wrinkle. He didn’t go back to the old one I detested. He still smells of sandalwood, like he did that night at the party when he touched me more than he had since we’d been married. It’s distracting. I don’t understand what he is doing.
“I think I’ll pass. Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a request, Caelia.”
“No, that would imply that you’d have to say please.”
“Is this what you want from me? To beg you for your time?”
He talks like he’s drunk, but he doesn’t look like it. My time? Since when does he want to spend time in my company?
“Since when do you care about what I want?”
He loosens his tie, the only sign that he might lose his patience with me. His hands are tattooed, although I’ve never stared at them for long. His fingers are long, almost delicate. But I am aware of the violence those hands can unleash. They’ve left me battered and bloodied on countless occasions. They’ve clenched around my throat. They’ve submerged my head underwater. Those hands have brought me nothing but agony.
“I’ve told you that some things will change.”
“And this is one of them?” I laugh, readjusting the blanket on my feet. I need something to keep me distracted.
“It is.”
“What else is going to change?”
“This nonsense of us sleeping in different rooms.”
Oh God, no. I look at him dumbfounded, blinking quickly. The rhythm of my heart races, and it gets harder to breathe. I wipe my sweaty palms on the blanket. I used to be stupid and na?ve once. I used to think that we were going to make this marriage work. I’ve seen it happen before, and I know it’s not a far-fetched dream. But Mattia didn’t want to try. He didn’t give me a chance, hating me from the start and reminding me every so often. He turned this marriage into a war, and I’ve always been on the losing side.
“What’s gotten into you?”
“This is a marriage, so we’ll treat it like one.”
“An arranged marriage,” I point out. “You’re slightly delusional if you think I’m just going to have dinner and share my bed with you every night like nothing happened. Our vows meant nothing to you, Mattia. So you can go fuck yourself!”
I have a sense of déjà vu. This is how every single one of our fights starts. Mattia is too proud to allow someone to speak with him like this; in the end, he’ll have his way. I’ll fight him until my last breath, although I know the ending can’t be changed.
“I’m trying to fix things, Caelia. I’m trying to do better.”
My heart skips a beat. Trusting his words will only screw me up in the end.
“I don’t want you to fix things. I just want you to leave me the hell alone. Please.” My voice breaks, his silhouette becoming a blur.
“I can’t.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry.” I’m surprised he hasn’t raised his voice yet. “Why are you making this so difficult?”
“I’m the one making this difficult?” I scoff. “We weren’t even married for five seconds before you made yourself clear. When the priest said that you could kiss your bride, you told me how this would work. Remember?”
His face is blank. He has no reason to remember the words he turned into weapons on our wedding day. Why would he?
“No?” I laugh. “Let me remind you, then. You told me that, of all the whores in the world, you had the misfortune of marrying me. That you became my master the moment we said our vows. You’ve warned me you’ll kill me one day.” I remember all the vile things he said, how my heart slowed down, and all the blood drained from my face. How frozen I stood there in the middle of the church while he pressed his lips against mine, pouring all the hatred into my mouth. “And now you’re trying to act like a decent human being? It’s too late for that, Mattia. You can’t take back all the things you’ve done.”
He doesn’t reply for a moment. He stares at me with those gray eyes that always intimidate me.
“I know I’ve done some terrible things, Caelia,” he finally says, his voice low. “But I’m not giving up on us yet. I still want to try.”
As I watch him now, I’m left all confused. He looks like the man who said all those things to me, but he’s not the same. Instead of being immune to my words, he’s tense. I find consolation in the thought that maybe he’s dying and he had a change of heart. I’m not going to make this easy for him.
I shake my head, tears streaming down my face. “It’s too late, Mattia. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep living in fear of you. I want a divorce.”
He stands up, towering over me. I shrink back, but I refuse to show him any more fear.
“You’re not getting a divorce, Caelia,” he says. “You’re mine, and you’ll always be mine. Remember that.”
Mattia shifts, and I flinch, my fight-or-flight instinct kicking in. His eyes never wander from mine, and he frowns. His jaw tenses and his hands are clenched into fists, but he seems annoyed by my reaction, not at me for simply existing.
“I’ll be downstairs if you change your mind about dinner.” He stands up and heads toward the door.
“I won’t.”
I struggle to breathe long after he’s gone.
I don’t know how to handle this side of him.
I wish I didn’t have to deal with him at all.