Sitting in here she was surrounded by her whole life. Michael hated it. He felt she dwelt too much on the past, when she should be enjoying the present or looking forward to the future. It was hard for him to understand how attached she was to her treasures. He was different to her; his life was mainly lived outside the house – he was always off somewhere – and he wanted her to be the same. Her journeys out into the world were getting rarer and rarer; she preferred the comfort and safety of her own home. She didn’t drive much any more either, she only got into the car if she had to for her daughter’s benefit. She knew, deep inside, that she was gradually becoming even more of a recluse, but she didn’t care. She had all she needed here in her own home.
She looked down at her legs; they were still shapely. She was a good-looking woman, and she took good care of herself – she always put on her make-up and dressed well. Michael still wanted her; he enjoyed her body as he had years before. She still wanted him, and loved the feel of his arms around her. But she had no desire to go out with him any more. She cooked him meals that a professional chef would be proud of, she always made sure the table was dressed with everything from the finest glassware to the best linen. She kept a home for him that was the envy of many a man. All she asked in return was that he allowed her to live her life her own way.
She walked over to the French doors and, opening them, she went out to the small balcony. Sitting at the table, she looked at the sky. It was a clear night, the moon was full, and the stars were glittering above her. She shivered in the cold night air and, picking up the glass of white wine she had left out there earlier, she took a deep drink. Jessie was asleep, and she envied her daughter for a few moments. It had been so long since she had really slept, she had forgotten what it was like. She wished she didn’t suffer from insomnia, that she could get into bed and relax like everyone else. Just to lie down and drift off peacefully was a luxury she couldn’t enjoy any more. Instead, she was wide awake, straining her ears for the sound of her husband’s car crunching on the drive. Once he was home safe, she always felt better.
It was when she was alone in the night like this that she couldn’t stop herself thinking about things she knew were better left alone. Michael’s lifestyle frightened her; she remembered late at night that the world he inhabited was a violent, bloody world. It was a world that she knew he loved, and one that she had never truly understood until the night she had seen him as he really was, covered in blood, and calmly washing it away without any emotion whatsoever. She had helped him – it had been instinctive; she had done what a wife in her position was expected to do for the man she had married. But it was a moment that changed everything. After that night, she had suffered from violent nightmares for weeks, and that was when her insomnia had begun. She was afraid of sleeping, afraid of the nightmares that would take hold, and she had never recovered. His lifestyle, what she knew he was capable of, terrified her. She’d thought she’d understood; seeing it first-hand was completely different.
She knew he would never harm her or his daughter; he loved them more than anything in the world, but that, in itself, was part of the problem. She didn’t feel she could live up to his expectations of her, she hadn’t even been able to give him a child for years. Now she worried that he saw her need for staying at home as a flaw. It was, she supposed, but it was how she coped. Even though he never said anything to her outright, she knew that her refusals to accompany him anywhere hurt his feelings. She didn’t want to do that to him – she loved him with all her heart. But it was getting harder and harder for her to venture outside her home. Just picking up Jessie tonight had been so nerve-racking that when she had finally got back to the house, she had been sweating profusely.
Every day, her world shrank a bit more. She could only ever really feel safe inside her own home, with all her things around her. This need she had to feel safe was powerful. She had to step away from the world that Michael inhabited. It was a world that had gradually crippled her.
She just didn’t want to fight it any more. Tonight she had made her mind up, admitted the truth to herself at last, and made a firm decision not to leave her sanctuary again. She felt almost tearful with joy. Michael would eventually accept her decision. Michael would never risk her actually telling him the truth, the real reason why she was like this.
Picking up her empty wine glass she went back into the warmth of the house. She would have another glass of wine, and watch a nice DVD. That was how she passed the hours away, because sleep was a luxury that all the money in the world couldn’t buy.
Chapter Seventy-Seven