Chapter 9
NINE
THIS IS IT.
My heart pounds a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I step out of the taxi. The apartment building looms before me. My reflection in the glass doors stares back: hair disheveled, features tired, still in the same tracksuit I’ve been wearing since last night.
I enter the lobby. The scent of lilies and stale perfume, thick and cloying, slams into me. Its sweetness clashes with the metallic tang of fear on my tongue. I clutch the ring in my fist, its sharp edges digging into my palm, a physical reminder of the battle ahead.
My footsteps are unnervingly quiet in the oppressive silence of the empty hallway. The apartment door stands at the end, a silent sentinel guarding the secrets within. I steel myself, take a deep breath, and rap my knuckles against the wood.
Silence.
I knock again, louder this time.
The door swings inward. James appears.
For a heartbeat, I just stare, taking in the unexpected sight. His usually rigid posture is relaxed, and a soft smile plays on his lips. His eyes, usually calculating, sparkle with a tenderness that makes my breath hitch.
“I brought your ring back,” I say steadily, forcing the words past the tremor in my hands.
I hold out my hand, the ring displayed on my open palm.
He doesn’t reach for it. Instead, he simply stands, watching me.
The apartment behind him is bathed in a soft, golden light.
The aroma of roasted chicken mingles with the scent of roses, creating a heady fragrance that both soothes and unsettles me.
“Amy,” he breathes in a husky whisper, “I’m so glad you came back.” He pulls me into a close embrace.
I stiffen in his arms, my body instinctively recoiling. He holds me tighter, burying his face in my hair, his touch suffocating.
What is he doing?
Is this some kind of twisted game?
I stand frozen, my mind reeling.
Where is the anger? The rage? The accusations?
This James is a stranger. A phantom.
“James…” His name sticks in my throat.
He pulls back, holding me at arm’s length, his eyes searching mine. “I want to make things right.”
Do you really? I wonder, my heart hardening. Or is this just another performance?
My gaze snaps to the table set for two, then back to him. Confusion wars with suspicion. The soft music drifting from the living room clashes with the frantic rhythm of my heartbeat.
“You shouldn’t have…” I can barely speak.
“Anything for you, my love,” he murmurs, smooth as silk.
My stomach clenches. A bitter taste rises in my throat, and I have to force my lips into a smile, a mask I can barely hold in place. I try to pull away, but his grip tightens, his fingers digging into my arms. I flinch, shrinking away from the pain.
“I need to change,” I say in a strained whisper, every nerve ending screaming in protest.
Get away from me.
“Later,” he murmurs, a low growl that raises goosebumps on my arms. His gaze drops to my lips, lingering there with a predatory hunger.
Don’t you dare kiss me. My throat tightens with disgust.
“I need to freshen up and get out of these clothes,” I plead.
“Dinner can wait,” he says in a sultry whisper. “But I can’t.”
“I won’t be long,” I insist, breathless.
James hesitates, his eyes narrowing slightly. Then a smile curves his lips, a wolfish gleam that sends a chill down my spine. “Fine,” he concedes. “But don’t be too long.”
Nodding, I pry his fingers from my arm and slip away. As I head toward the bedroom, I place the ring on the dinner table, the diamond winking at me under the soft light.
It’s out of my hands now.
The door clicks shut behind me, a fragile barrier against the tension simmering in the apartment. The faint scent of James’s cologne, cloying musk and leather, lingers in the air, a reminder of his dominating presence. I lean against the wood, my heart pounding.
What is he playing at?
This room feels different now, tainted by the knowledge of James’s betrayal.
What if this is all a trick? Just a lull before he attacks again?
I shed the tracksuit. The fabric clings to me, reluctant to let go.
Exhaustion descends, a bone-deep weariness that has less to do with the events of the day and everything to do with the months spent tiptoeing around James’s volatile moods.
I pull on a pair of comfortable black leggings and a white sweater, shedding the last vestiges of the woman who threw her ring into a stranger’s yard and found solace in his presence.
A solace I desperately crave but no longer have.
The door swings open before I process the knock. “Don’t keep me waiting, Mimi.” James’s voice cracks like a whip.
He leans against its frame, a smirk playing on his lips. “Ready for dinner, my love?” His eyes sweep over me with a greediness that makes my skin crawl.
“Yes,” I choke out.
He offers his hand, his touch deceptively warm, his eyes icy. I hesitate, fingers hovering over his outstretched palm.
Don’t give him the satisfaction.
But I push down the urge to pull back, plastering a smile onto my face. “Let’s go,” I say, my words a brittle imitation of normalcy.
He steers me into the dining room, the scent of roasted chicken and rosemary filling the air. The table is set with an elaborate spread of candles, flowers, and a crystal decanter filled with red wine. The candlelight casts dancing shadows on the walls, a poor imitation of warmth.
He’s trying too hard. My gaze sweeps over the ostentatious display, bile rising in my throat.
This isn’t him.
This isn’t us.
Not anymore.
We sit down, and James pours the wine, his movements a practiced performance. The crystal glasses clink softly. “I’m sorry for what happened at your office,” he says, his apology smooth. “I didn’t mean to lose it like that.”
“It’s okay,” I reply, my words flat.
It’s not okay.
Nothing is okay.
“I was just so stressed,” he continues, a low rumble that cuts through the light music. “That fucking lawyer... he really got under my skin.”
Conflicting emotions rise. Anger at James, protectiveness towards Matthew, and a longing I can’t quite explain.
“He was just doing the decent thing, protecting me from…” My voice trails off, the unspoken accusation hanging in the air.
“From?” James raises an eyebrow, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. “Protecting my fiancée?” He pauses, leaning back in his chair. “From her fiancé, you mean?”
“From further embarrassment,” I finish smoothly, hoping my voice doesn’t betray the pounding in my chest.
“You invited that embarrassment when you threw away your engagement ring the way you did. How the fuck did you end up finding it again, by the way?” he asks, his question laced with suspicion.
My heart stops. Cold sweat breaks out on my forehead. I can’t tell him the ring was in Matthew’s front yard.
“I—I went back to the club,” I stammer, grasping for a plausible lie. “Retraced my steps and found it in the alleyway. Hidden behind some garbage bags.”
James’s face flushes. His jaw clenches. He grips the stem of his wineglass so tightly that his fingertips whiten.
“Under garbage bags?” he sneers. “The diamond ring I bought for you was lying with some garbage bags?” He stares at me, his eyes narrowed, waiting for my response.
“Lucky me, huh?” I force a casual shrug. “Otherwise, someone else would’ve surely found it.”
He continues to stare, his silence a suffocating weight. I can feel my heart pounding, palms growing clammy. He takes a deep breath, composing himself, a muscle jumping in his jaw before forcing a smile.
“I suppose I should be grateful you found it at all.” His smile vanishes. “Not that digging through garbage is punishment enough for what you did.” He takes a long sip of his wine, eyes fixed on me over the rim.
I meet his gaze, my expression unwavering. I set down my glass, the crystal clinking against the fine china.
“You think so little of me,” I say. “Anyway, maybe now that you have the ring, you won’t destroy everything I’ve worked so hard for.”
He lounges back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart,” he purrs, swirling the wine. “That café wouldn’t be yours without me.” He takes a sip, eyes gleaming with amusement.
“I’m gonna pay you back every penny,” I retort, my voice shaking. “Just watch.”
James arches an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “With what money? The meager profits from a soon-to-be-empty space? Or did you forget the little lease renewal issue with your landlord?”
“I’ll figure it out,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “I built it once. I can do it again. I just want out.”
He throws his head back and laughs. A cold, jarring sound. “Out?” he repeats, his voice dripping with mockery. “You’re only out when I say you’re out.”
I go cold. “You can’t keep me trapped forever,” I say, my voice shaking but firm.
He leans forward, his gaze pinning me in place. “I always get what I want, Mimi.”
My breath hitches. Ice creeps down my spine, but I refuse to let him see my fear.
I lift my chin, meeting his gaze with a defiance I don’t entirely feel. “And what exactly do you want, James?” I ask, my voice trembling slightly.
A slow smile spreads across his face. “I want you,” he murmurs, his voice smooth but menacing. “I want things to be the way they were.”
He seizes my hand. His touch sends a shudder through me. I try to pull away, but his grip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin. “I love you in my life, Mimi. Together we look like the perfect couple.”
His declaration is a poison whisper against my skin.
He doesn’t love me. He never did. It was always about control. About possession. About his precious image. The realization lands with crushing force.
Each bite of food feels like a betrayal.
The forced smiles and empty conversations a hollow echo of the intimacy we once shared.
I stab at a roasted potato. Even the rosemary, my favorite herb, can’t mask the bitterness coating my tongue.
James, oblivious, continues to drone on about his day, his voice a monotonous hum against my silent fury.
He talks about the important meetings and urgent phone calls, dripping with self-importance.
Then, he moves on to plans for the future.
Painting a picture of a life that feels as fake as he is.
The house we’ll buy, the vacations we’ll take…
Lies designed to trap me.
As the last of the wine disappears, James reaches into his pocket.
No…
The diamond ring glitters under the soft candlelight, its sharp facets amplifying the dull ache in my heart.
“I know I fucked up,” he says. His remorse is a performance. “And I really regret it. You know I love you, Mimi.”
No, I don’t. My heart is a block of ice.
He reaches across the table and takes my hand. His touch is a brand.
You don’t love me. A wave of fury surges through me. I fight the urge to wrench my hand away.
“Please take this back,” he pleads.
I fix my gaze on the ring, my chest tightening with dread. It’s a gilded cage designed to keep me bound to him.
But I won’t let it. My resolve hardens.
I won’t fall for his tricks again.
But I can’t refuse it now.
Not yet.
I let him slide the ring back onto my finger. The cold metal is a shackle. “It’s back where it belongs,” James declares in triumph.
“Thank you,” I whisper, dazed, my eyes staring past his shoulder. My mind is already plotting my escape.
He smirks, his smile possessive. “I knew you’d come around,” he says, squeezing my hand. “You’re mine, Mimi.” The heavy musk of his cologne invades my senses, fueling my revulsion.
Not for long.
I force a smile. My lips feel stiff, tight and unnatural.
He presses closer, closing the distance. His hand reaching for my waist. “Come to bed…” His murmur is raspy with need as his fingers snake beneath the hem of my sweater. He buries his face in my neck, his hot, stale breath a gross intrusion. His touch leaves a trail of cold dread.
Panic explodes in my chest. I shove him away with all my might. “I’m exhausted, James,” I tell him, trembling.
But he ignores me. His hand tightens on my waist like a vice, yanking me closer.
I gasp, my body colliding with his.
“Come on, let me show you how much I missed you,” he insists, his low growl vibrating against my skin.
I push against his chest with renewed force.
I won’t let him control me anymore.
My defiance grows with every beat of my heart. “No, James!”
I wriggle out of his grasp, panic threatening to drown me. I lunge out of my chair and back away, putting the table between us.
“I said I’m exhausted!” I repeat, my voice rising. “You saw what I went through today. I’m not in the mood for this!”
His nostrils flare, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “But I set up this entire dinner for you,” he snarls.
I lift my chin, meeting his gaze. “And I took your ring back even after all you’ve done.”
Fury twists his features. He shoves his chair back with such force that it falls over, clattering loudly to the floor.
I jump back, spine straightening.
He spins around and stomps toward the bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him. I flinch at the sound, my heart pounding in my throat. Before I have the chance to move, he reappears, his blazer clutched in his hand, storming towards the front door.
“Where are you going?” I ask, confusion cracking my voice.
“Out!” he barks. “Clearly, I’m not wanted here.” He strides out of the apartment. The door slams shut, the impact shaking the walls, leaving me alone in the silence.
For a beat, I stand motionless. Then, with a sigh, I move mechanically toward the table and blow out the candles, plunging the room into darkness.
My body heavy and my mind numb, I enter the bedroom, walk straight to the bed and slide under the covers. I lie there, staring at the ceiling, the events of the past twenty-four hours playing on a loop. Exhaustion washes over me, dulling the sharp edges of the day’s turmoil.
I close my eyes, seeking the oblivion of sleep.