I stayed in that one room the whole time. Day in, day out.
I knew it was what I had to do to make him stop hurting Denham and those around him.
Jonny never elaborated on what he meant when he said I’d made things worse, but the selfish part of me didn’t want to know. It was too painful. The logical part of my brain told me to toe the line. Do what was expected of me, and the lives of others would be safe, and mine would be as bearable as it would ever be in the situation that I’m in.
Jonny showed me a softer side that I hadn’t seen before. I wasn’t stupid enough to think it was going to last or even to think that it was real, but it did make things easier to deal with day by day.
Tonight was different than every other night so far. Usually Jonny would bring dinner in for me, place it on the table, then leave after exchanging a few pleasant words. Tonight he brought dinner for us both and sat with me at the table in my room. Hedidn’t explain himself. Just sat, picked up his fork and began to eat.
“I’ll have the white, please,” he states, indicating the wine bottles on the table between us.
His order stuns me for a moment. The shift in his demeanor prickles the hairs on the back of my neck. I knew it was too good to be true.
I pour his wine while he eats. He doesn’t acknowledge it, other than to pick up his glass and drain half of the liquid.
“We’re going out this evening.”
I suck in a quick breath. The thought of going out panics me. I don’t want to go anywhere. I’m cocooned in my own bubble in this room. I’m shut away from real life, from reality.
“Where?” I ask, trying to disguise the rising anxiety in my voice.
He just looks up at me from his plate, then back down again, acknowledging that he’s heard me but not giving me the courtesy of an answer.
“But I don’t have anything to wear.” I came here in my beautiful ball gown, without even thinking about packing to bring clothes with me. I have been living in Jonny’s oversized sweatpants and tees, and I haven’t even seen the gown, or my eternity necklace, since Jonny took them off.
“Well,” Jonny says, placing his knife and fork carefully on the edge of his plate. “If you hadn’t been such a spoiled brat and tried to have everything your own way when you first came here, you would already know that you have a whole wardrobe full of clothes…in my room. Which, by the way, is where you will be sleeping from now on.” He finishes his informative statement by standing abruptly from the table and turning to leave.
“But …”
“NO!” he yells, then composes himself and drops his voice back to an acceptable level. “You are not calling the shots anylonger. Do you hear me? I have accommodated your childish actions. I have brought your food to you daily. I have been beyond patient with your petulant ways. Now it’s about time you started showing your gratitude for everything I’ve done for you. Get showered. I’ll leave clothes on your bed. Wear your hair up. You have an hour.”
He slams the door on his exit and the sound echoes across the room. This is the Jonny I know. Demanding and cruel. Unreasonable and irrational.
But what choice do I have? What option is there when he holds someone else at ransom?
I look around the sparse room, standing on the plush circular rug in the center.
How did we get to this? I run scenarios through my head, possibilities that were obviously never meant to be. Dreams that were never meant to come true. Nothing but cruel fairy tales.
“You’re not getting ready?” Jonny asks standing in the doorway. I can smell his pungent aftershave the minute I turn to face him, and if his presence hadn’t instantly caused my throat to close over, that smell would have. He’s holding a dress bag, a white lace bra and panties set, and white strappy sandals with a spiked four-inch heel. On any other occasion I would admire those heels, they’re pretty, but I resent the hell they will put my feet through if I have to wear them for him.
The underwear makes my heart clench. Denham would love this underwear, in fact he was very vocal about loving me in any underwear, but lace was his favorite.
I swallow hard and push the thought away. Denham wouldn’t love me at all now. I abandoned him. And regardless of the love I have for him, he has probably lost anything he ever felt for me.
Jonny lays them all down on the bed and holds the dress bag up in front of me. I reluctantly pull down the zipper. All I see is white. A long white dress. Shit.
I start to feel sick, the small amount of food I managed to eat not half an hour ago, roils in my stomach, and I am hoping and praying to all the gods that this isn’t what I think it is. But as I slide the virginal satin from the hanger, it becomes glaringly obvious what this is.
It’s a wedding dress.
No. No. No.
I don’t want to get married. I can’t marry Jonny. I can’t. I won’t. I’d rather die.
Thoughts run through my head at a hundred miles an hour, and disbelieving mumbled words escape my lips. The defiant, strong girl I had found wants to stand and fight. But it’s futile, isn’t it? Even if he never laid another hand on me, the threat of what he could do to Denham, Mom, Lottie, anyone I’ve ever cared about, is far too powerful. How can I say no to him? How can I ever deny him anything he ever asks for, when I have that threat hanging over me?
But how can I do this? Marriage?
