“What do you mean it changed you?”
“I’d like to do something with my time other than going to the gym and shopping and waiting for you to come home. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. I’m lucky to have that choice, but that’s not who I am.” It’s who I thought I should be. I stare at the bottle in my hands, tracing its label. “I want more. And, well, Evan mentioned during breakfast that his sister owns a flower shop in Rye.” I hesitate, unsure of William’s reaction. “I went to see her today, and she offered me a job as an apprentice slash assistant. Her name is Meg, and she’s really, really lovely. Her place is—”
“Absolutely not.”
About to pour wine into the glasses, the hand holding the bottle freezes in midair. “What did you say?”
William takes the bottle from my hand and fills our glasses. After chugging down his own, he adds, “This isn’t Paris. Your place is at home. Think what our friends will say. What my grandmother will say. She already thinks I give you more than enough freedom.”
I clear my throat. This can’t be happening, not after everything has been going so well. Maybe he’s teasing me. “You’re joking, right?”
“No, not really.” He shrugs. “Besides, I won’t be made a laughing stock because my wife is some kind of lowly clerk at a random place.”
He has to be joking. Any minute now he’ll look at me, throw his head back, shouting with laughter. But seconds turn into minutes, and nothing happens. William’s gaze holds mine captive, and I feel entrapped with nowhere to run. “What kind of caveman views are those? Next you’re going to say that my job is to give you babies.”
William sighs, running a hand through his golden hair, exasperation and annoyance radiate from his body. “That’d be a start. But it seems you can’t even get that right.”
I feel like he just punched me in the stomach. “This is where you apologize.”
I’m met by hair rising silence.
I take a step back and look at him with revulsion and hurt before I turn away. “We’re done here, William.”
“No, we’re not.”
My skin breaks into goose bumps as soon as he comes to stand next to me. Taking my forearm in his hand, he stops me before I get a chance to escape. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Let go.” I try to snatch my arm away from his hold, but he tightens his grip making it impossible for me to get away. “You’re hurting me.”
“Listen to me, and listen to me well.” Gripping me by the chin, he makes me stare at him. His eyes, usually soft, are now hard as stone. “Tomorrow you’re going to give this Meg a call and inform her you can’t take the position anymore.”
“Why would I do that?” I ignore the pain from his angry hold, a rebellion forming inside me. “I don’t need your permission to do anything.”
“You’re my wife, and you’re going to do what I tell you to do.”
“No, I won’t. You don’t own me.”
He tightens his grip even more, drawing closer to me. “Don’t test me, Val.” There’s a dangerous edge to his tone that sends a chill running down my spine. I stare at William and feel as though I’m seeing him for the first time. He has the same features as the man I married. The man who’s slept next to me for years. The man I promised to love and obey until death do us apart. But this man, with the mocking eyes and the cruel touch and the menacing words, is a stranger who frightens me. He can’t be my William. But he is. And the thought that I might not know him at all leaves me reeling.
“You’re scaring me,” I say softly without looking away.
He lets go of me and pours himself another glass of wine, watching me closely.
Shaken, I grab the counter for support. After a few sips, he comes up behind me and places his hands on my shoulders. The uninvited touch sends chills running down my spine.
“I’m sorry, my darling. It’s been a long fucking day and I lost my head.” He kisses the curve of my neck, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. “Listen, I know it might not seem that way, but I only want what’s best for us. Hell, you want a flower shop? I’ll buy you one, and you can hire whomever you want. Now come, let’s put this all behind us and go finish our dinner.”
He takes my hand in his and guides us to the table. Numb and in a daze, I follow and sit on the chair next to his. Reaching for my napkin, I place it on my lap, and watch him fill my plate with salad. But my appetite is gone.
William sits down and reaches for his fork. “I thought you were planning my grandmother’s ninetieth birthday? It’s just around the corner.” He smiles his golden boy smile, all charm and sweetness. He’s back to being the William I know, and I could almost be fooled into believing I imagined the whole thing.
Almost.
“How about you focus on that party first, and when it’s all over we can talk about this again?”
“Sure,” I say listlessly, my gaze trained on his handsome profile before landing on the wall full of photographs behind him. Those perfect snapshots of our life. There’s a wiry woman dressed in white standing next to a man. The picture perfect blushing bride. Her long brown hair surrounds her young face like a halo, and she’s looking up at him adoringly as he smiles down at her. They look happy. In love.
A blindfold has been removed from my eyes as the image before me blurs through my tears.
Have I gotten it all wrong?
The next morning I’m coming back from a run when I notice two vans parked outside the front entrance and the doors to the house flung wide open. Slowing down, I frown as I follow a man carrying a huge bouquet of red roses inside. Mrs. Croft is standing at the top of the steps, her eyes glowing softly.
“Good morning, Mrs. Croft.”
“Good morning, Valentina.”
A different man walks past me at that moment, smiling politely as he goes down the steps toward the van.
I focus on Mrs. Croft. “What’s going on? I don’t remember placing an order for flowers.”
Mrs. Croft smiles, maybe for the first time since I’ve known her. “Why don’t you go inside and see for yourself?”
“Okay.”
Stepping into the foyer, my eyes widen as I take in the view. Everywhere you look there are magnificent bouquets with dozens of red roses. The entire room is bursting with them. There’s one particularly magnificent arrangement sitting on top of the maple table in the middle of the room. I lean toward it to smell the intoxicating aroma, noticing a note.
I accept his apology, but nothing feels the same. Nothing is.