The Accidental Marriage: Chapter 41

I bury my face in my hands. How could I have blurted it out like that? I ruined everything.

The kitchen is empty. The passion Ares and I shared has long gone cold, and I shiver. Sudden exhaustion makes even the simplest movement seem like lifting a mountain. I just…

Finally, I sigh and force myself into action. I slide slowly off the counter, wipe the white goo off my belly with a paper towel and drop it into the trash.

My heart is heavier than lead. From the way Ares left, he’s probably not coming back tonight. I could’ve waited for a better time to spring it on him. It’s just that when he held me like I was the most important treasure in his life, “I love you” surged in my throat. But I just couldn’t say it, not when I knew this was the end of the marriage and he can’t quit thinking about the woman he calls Queen.

The kitchen is too fresh with our recent lovemaking. I trudge toward the garden to breathe in some fresh air and clear my mind, shedding pieces of my shattered heart along the way. Does it make me a totally shitty human being that I almost wish Ares didn’t get the promotion so I’d have a reason to stick around?

It’s ridiculous that I seem to be unable to just tell him what’s on my mind. I didn’t hesitate this badly when I was debating climbing over to Ares’s balcony in Vegas. There, failure meant death. The end. But at least I wouldn’t have had any pain or lingering regrets haunting me. But with Ares? I don’t want him to pity me or avoid me out of awkwardness or—worse yet—fear that I might try to cling to him like his ex. If I loved him a little less, I might’ve found the courage to confess my feelings.

I reach the garden and remember that stunning purple irises are blooming in the back. Maybe they’ll cheer me up a little.

The scent of the flowers tickles my nose, and I breathe in the earthy smell. The deep violet, even darker at night, somehow reminds me of a lullaby. When Ares returns, I’ll take a moment and explain to him why I chose divorce over staying together. He’s upset now, but he’ll understand that continuing this marriage wouldn’t be fair to either of us when he learns that Queen still haunts his dreams.

The irises to my right rustle. I turn, but see nothing in the shadows. The night lights seem a bit dimmer than usual. Did a bulb or two go bad? I make a mental note to look into it later.

My phone buzzes. I glance at the screen, my heart jumping to my throat. Ares.

–My Knight: There’s no promotion. The partners made a mistake.

What?

–Me: I’m so sorry. Are you okay?

Three dots appear on the screen. He must be devastated. Now I feel like a complete bitch for asking him for a divorce. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I have to take back what I said.

Yeah, but now you can stay married to him!

I shake my head at the shameless thought, consumed with guilt and self-recrimination. How can I be so selfish when Ares must be feeling absolutely crushed?

Besides, he might not want to stay together now anyway, since being with me didn’t get him the promotion he wanted. He said “nice and respectable wife,” and I might not have fit that definition well enough to satisfy the firm.

The wait for the dots to turn into actual words seems interminable. I want to know what’s on his mind, but at the same time I prefer to bury my head in the sand and stay ignorant. What if the error has something to do with my suitability?

Finally, a new text pops up. I glance down at it, my attention wholly on the message.

But before I can finish reading, something pungent and nauseating covers my face. I can’t even hold my breath before the fumes permeate my nostrils and mouth.

Everything goes black.

* * *

“Fucking cunt! Wake up!” A slap.

Pain explodes across my cheek and my head snaps to the side. The coppery tang floods my mouth.

Something sticky and rough is biting into my wrists and ankles. A dull pain in my shoulders says I’ve been sitting in the same position for too long.

Where am I? What happened?

There’s a fog in my head and my vision is hazy. I squirm, and the chair wobbles a little on uneven legs. A nail—or something—is sticking out in the back and scratching my shoulder blade. With my luck, it’s rusty and will give me tetanus. There’s a smell of moldy wood and loam. A campfire crackles on the unfinished floor, and a lone, naked, broken bulb hangs from a slanted ceiling with a hole big enough to see a blurry moon.

I blink, trying desperately to clear my vision. Sticks fan around me on the floor like sunflower petals. What the…?

“You bitch! You ruined everything!”

Rupert? “Aren’t you in jail?” I manage to rasp. My eyes finally adjust.

“You wish! Cunt! Fucking cunt!” he screams in my face. He’s in a ragged T-shirt and cargo shorts—clothes he would’ve never been seen in before. His hair is messier than a bird’s nest. In the bright yellow fire, his eyes glow red like an enraged demon. He suddenly straightens, takes a deep breath. “But guess what? You aren’t the only one with somebody on your side. I got somebody big and important helping me, too.”

Do you honestly believe I have no reach outside of Nesovia? Do you think just because you’re in America, you’re untouchable?

“Zoe?” I ask.

Rupert sneers. “This is what you deserve. You could’ve just been nice. Married me like you were supposed to. I didn’t even want to touch you. Parker is my true love.” He speaks like he was going to do me a favor or something.

Am I supposed to thank him for that?

“Once we realized you’d gotten married, did we make things difficult for you? No! We just wanted to take the things you didn’t want anymore—your trash! They weren’t even worth that much, not compared to the money your father and grandfather left you. With a bit of fame, Parker and I could’ve been happy.” His eyes contain a gleam that reminds me of ice.

“You were going to get rid of Doris and Vernon.”

“Duh! Why the fuck would we keep them around? All this mess because they couldn’t even kill you and your parents right!”

I gasp. Although Zoe hinted at it, the bald revelation sends a shock wave through me. Decades of injustice and grievance twist my gut into a tight knot. I feel hot tears dripping down my cheeks. “Did they poison my parents?” I whisper shakily, wishing I could break the knots and strangle him with my bare hands.

“Well, duh again! You were supposed to die, too, but they fucked it up. Ugh. If all three of you had just kicked off, Doris could’ve taken the money. Why are you so fucking persistent? You’re like a cockroach that just won’t stay squished! Why did you have to ruin it for me and Parker?”

“I ruined it? For you and Parker? You stole from me! You killed my parents for money!” I shoot back, rage shaking through me.

“Hey, wasn’t me. Doris and Vernon did that. Believe me, if I’d done it, you wouldn’t be involved in this conversation!” he says arrogantly.

“You think you’re so clever? You couldn’t even slow-poison me right.”

He shakes his head, pacing. “Partners! Fucking partners. Have to do every goddamn thing myself if I want it done right.”

“How about marrying me, like you were planning? Couldn’t do that, either,” I sneer.

“So what? You’re here now. At my mercy!”

I can’t argue with this nonsense. In his mind he’s the greatest, smartest, most wonderful and deserving, no matter what.

“You should’ve died in that fire twenty-two years ago. You were always out, running around and coming back to the cottage disheveled, like some hillbilly mountain girl. Dirty. Then you came home in a charred dress, scarred in the back. Probably a punishment for seducing who knows what.”

“Wasn’t I eight?” I don’t recall what he’s talking about, but I want to make sure I did my math right. A headache from whatever drug he used to knock me out is hammering at my skull.

“So? Lolita was the same age!”

Lolita? “Like in the book? She was twelve—”

“Shut up, bitch! Doris should’ve have stopped me when I told her I should just beat the resistance out of you and have you the way I wanted. You were always just a tool and should’ve been taught your place.” He heaves air. “But no. You wanted to have things your way. Well, since you wouldn’t serve your purpose, now I have no choice.”

He’s gone completely insane. “What are you going to do?”

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago.” He grabs a red canteen and pours the clear contents all around me in a circle. Only then do I realize the sticks on the floor are kindling. “Parker says she doesn’t want to die, but not me. I’d rather be dead than live in some cage with nothing. But I’m not going alone. I’m taking you with me.” He tosses the empty container away and lights a match.

My palms slicken with cold sweat. I struggle, trying to free myself. But there’s no give. The chair wobbles violently, and I stop. Toppling over won’t do me any good.

The wavering yellow flame from the match lights Rupert’s eerie smile. Then he lets it go.