Three days.
It's been three days since I brought Gemma to Adrian. Since I made the hard choice to protect the family.
She hasn't spoken more than a few words since.
They are mostly grunts and sighs in response to questions that I pose.
I tell myself that it's fine. She's processing what happened. Once she realizes this was necessary, that it kept us safe, she'll understand.
It's just like when we first married.
She'll come to understand. She has to.
It doesn't help that I have been stuck in meetings nonstop. The transition has not been as smooth as I wish, and I've been dealing with fire after fire, none of which involve my wife.
Until now. I've managed to get away for thirty minutes, and I'm going to check on Gemma.
I find her in the bedroom, staring out the window. She's wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Her hair is unwashed, and the bruise on her face is stark and dark.
The sight of it makes me want to kill her fucking brother, and then, put my head through a woodchipper.
I should never have let the situation get this bad, and I can't blame her for being angry at me.
"Gemma." I keep my voice gentle. "We should talk."
She doesn't turn. "Okay." Her voice is soft, and I glance at her neck. There are purple bruises forming, and I close my eyes as I try to gain control.
"About what happened. With Adrian." I move closer, hesitantly, as though she's a wild animal. "I know you're angry?—"
"I'm not angry." She still hasn't moved to look at me, and I don't like it. I can't see her face fully. I can't tell whether she's telling me the truth or not.
Her words should be a relief. Instead, they make my stomach clench in worry. Gemma is not the type to hold her feelings inside, at least, not as long as we have been married. And yet, she is sitting her, acting like she is unbothered.
"You're not?"
"No." Her voice is flat and empty. "I'm not anything."
I come around to face her, tired of not being able to see her fully.
I study her, and though she looks like Gemma, she's missing something.
Her eyes, which have always held so much fire and made me think of liquid steel, are dead.
Lifeless.
"It's done now," I say. "The threat is neutralized. Adrian knows. Alexei has no leverage. We can move forward." I reach for her. She lets me take her into my arms. "We can start fresh. Try for a baby with no pressure."
She looks at me, but it's like she's not processing the information.
"Okay."
"Gemma—"
"You're right. We can start fresh." She turns back to the window, pulling out of my embrace. She wraps her arms around her body. "Was there anything else?"
This isn't how this was supposed to go.
She's supposed to be angry. Yelling. Fighting. Trying to fucking gouge my eyes out. I can handle angry Gemma. I know what to do with her rage.
