Tori
Chapter 9
Iwas the kind of girl who’d always dreamed of escape.
My Christmas lists all throughout elementary school had been filled with what I’d thought of as ‘adventure supplies.’ Flashlights, sleeping bags, hand warmers and canteens with built-in water filters—pretty weird for a nine-year-old. But even though the furthest I’d been allowed to wander with my compass and backpack had been the five acres of our backyard, that tiny taste of what I’d craved was enough to fuel years of suppressed wanderlust.
But here I was, waking up bright and early so I couldcarpe diemon my honeymoon—arguably the biggest adventure of my life—and my husband was nowhere to be found. His side of the bed wasn’t even disturbed. Had he even come back last night? I had no idea.
I’d never felt so alone.
I remembered trying to wait up for him– though I’d changed out of the cursed lingerie the moment he left—but the day had worn me out so much that I’d fallen asleep pretty fast.
Wrapping myself in the plush hotel robe, I went searching for him in the rooms of our suite. Maybe he was making coffee or working in the office already, a willing slave to his laptop and smartphone.
On the plush sofa in the sitting room, I found a pillow on top of a neatly folded blanket. Well. At least he’d made it back last night. He’d just chosen to sleep on the couch.
I sank down onto the cushions, my head in my hands. I’d thought we had turned a corner. His hand had felt so good on mine during the opera, the sparks palpable. And then he wouldn’t even share a bed with me. The sexual rejection had hurt, but this? It somehow felt worse.
“I’m heading out.”
My head snapped up. Stefan was in a perfectly pressed Armani suit, looking like sex on a stick, and apparently gearing up to start his day. I glanced down guiltily at my robe.
“I must still be jetlagged,” I said, smiling apologetically. “I can be ready in ten minutes.”
“You’re not going,” he said, not even glancing up as he fastened his watch.
“Okay, I can meet you there—”
“You’ll stay here.”
I bristled at the command. But I wasn’t so easily dismissed.
“Just tell me where you’re going then,” I demanded. “I want to know.”
“You’re on a need to know basis,” he said. “And it’s frankly nothing to do with you.”
I bit my lip and recalled all the years of obedience training I’d undergone at the hands of Michelle and my father. Like I was no more than a dog, learning to sit and stay on command. Rage was boiling up inside me, but I reminded myself that I’d agreed to this marriage and all of its conditions. That this was temporary. That once we returned to Chicago, I’d be so busy with school that I wouldn’t have time to worry about the status of my sham of a marriage.
But why had Stefan even bothered with a honeymoon or a visit to the opera? Why stare at me so hungrily while I was naked in the shower? I was getting so many mixed messages that my head was spinning.
Still, I couldn’t go on like this. We couldn’t go on like this.
“Where were you last night?” I asked, the question tumbling out before I could stop it.
He was fastening his cufflink and didn’t even bother looking up.
“I was out,” he said.
I stood up, fire in my chest. “Out where? I waited up for you. You ignored all my texts.”
“It’s not your concern,” he said casually. “And in the future, don’t bother waiting.”
“In the future?”
He finally glanced over. “I’m a very busy man,” he said. “You should understand that.”
“I’d just like to know where you are, and when you plan on returning,” I said, my hands on my hips. “As your wife, I think I’m entitled to that knowledge.”
