He tossed his robe onto a nearby chair and got into bed with me, wearing a comfortable smile.
I didn’t yet hate him then, but I couldn’t honestly say that I loved him anymore. How I wished there had been someone else to steal my affections. Someone gentle and kind and willing to take care of Michael and me.
When I tried to turn away, he pulled me close. He was naked, and I felt the heat of his skin and the prickling of his body hair through my gown.
“You know you can’t leave me, Charlotte.” He kissed my neck and rubbed his face against it, abrading it so that it stung. “You can’t have Michael unless you have me.”
“I never said I wanted to leave you.”
“But you moved out of our suite. Locked your door. You’ve been an ice princess ever since J.C. left. And she could’ve been very, very nice to you, my love.” He squeezed one of my nipples to punctuate his words, and I cried out softly. I couldn’t bear the thought of Shelley hearing us. What he was implying about J.C. and me was probably meant to shock me, but she had told me herself, hadn’t she? There was very little now that he could say that would shock me.
I was still cold, and I hated that he burned with warmth beside me. But it was as if he were a stranger. Worse than a stranger. My body refused to respond to him.
“You’re breaking my heart, my love. You’re not being a good wife, or a good mother. Everyone’s saying you look so tired. So unhappy. Tell me you’re not unhappy, my darling.”
“I’m happy.”
“You’re going to have to work a little harder to convince me. You were so mean to J.C. that she left here in tears. It takes a lot to make an old warhorse like J.C. cry. What did you do to her?”
He continued to touch me gently, with his lips and his hands. I didn’t resist when he edged my thighs apart, but neither did I make it particularly easy for him. I knew it was my duty to let him exercise his husband’s privileges, but I wasn’t so na?ve as to think what he was doing was right. It’s so hard to describe the change in him. In a matter of a few months, he’d gone from being my generous but slightly arrogant husband to a manipulative stranger. Yet the only things that had changed in our lives were the deaths of Olivia and Eva.
“Didn’t you like J.C.? Is there someone you would like better?”
I turned my face further into the pillow, which made him laugh. The sound of it was too close. Disheartening. We were utterly alone. In the nursery, not so many days ago (though it felt like a lifetime), I had at least felt someone else there, watching us. God knew it wasn’t right, but I preferred the presence of some unseen entity to that of my husband.
“Oh, Charlotte, Charlotte. How precious you are. Promise you’ll always stay like this. So beautiful.”
I lay there, waiting. Enduring. Thinking that Olivia had endured much worse. It hurt, but only because I couldn’t make myself respond. The things that had once brought me so much pleasure were like ancient rituals that had to be endured. There was no shame in them. Only sadness.
When he finished, he used the pristine bedsheets—his mother’s sheets—to wipe himself clean. I tried to turn over so I didn’t have to look at him, but he grabbed my shoulder and jerked me back. It was the closest he’d ever come to touching me with violence.
“I can play this game as long as you like. Just know that you are here for me until I decide I don’t need you anymore.”
“I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this.”
“We’ve had a wonderful time, haven’t we? No one could ever say I haven’t treated you like a queen.”
“If you’re going to treat me like this, why in God’s name won’t you divorce me? Let me leave. It’s like you want to humiliate me. Are you going to continue to punish me for Eva?”
“You can leave anytime. I won’t stop you.”
“I don’t want anything from you. Just let me take Michael. Then you can have any woman you want. In your mother’s bed. Anywhere. I’m sure J.C. would be happy to come back and take my place.”
Press sighed. “I don’t think so. Michael stays.”
“You can’t keep us here. My father will take me in.”