by Anna Santos
“My wife will take it. Just put it with the rest of the clothes she chose,” Eric said.
“Oh, your wife!” The nice older lady beamed. “That explains a lot. I’ll add the dress and give you a discount.”
The shop assistant left, and Eric used his index to raise my chin. “Are you okay or do you want me to take you home?”
Shivering, I gulped and focused my blurry vision on his kind face. “I’m okay.”
“Good. I’ll pay, and then we’ll leave.”
I nodded.
Eric walked to the counter and removed his card from his wallet. “Here's my credit card, one of my bodyguards will carry the bags. Thank you for all your help.”
“It was my pleasure. I hope to see you soon,” the lady said.
“Beth,” Eric called me, showing me his hand for me to hold.
I moved to him, and he entwined his fingers with mine.
“Where do we go now?” Jessica asked, getting up and joining us. “I'm hungry. I'm just saying.”
“Where do you want to go?” Eric asked me. I shrugged. “Let's eat, then.”
Nodding, I looked behind where the shop assistant was folding the clothes, and the bodyguard was waiting to carry the bags and receive Eric's credit card.
Wife. Will I ever feel like a normal person again?
Chapter THIRTEEN
Elizabeth
Eric's family was friendly. Anna was a darling, and his mom was full of life. They began monopolizing my days and rarely gave me time alone with Eric. He didn't complain because he wanted me happy. He followed us like a shadow. No, not a shadow, more like a guardian angel. I also felt safer with him around. Even if Jessica, his mom, was the one who did most of the talking, I liked that Eric was close, ready to take care of my every need. Anna and Jessica treated him like their own personal bag carrier, driver, and bodyguard. He didn't seem to mind. I assumed he endured all that to be next to me.
Two more weeks went by, and I was feeling much healthier, stronger, and less miserable. I smiled more often and began showing interest in all the novelties that surrounded us: new clothes, new gadgets, the state of the economy, and my new family.
The world had endured several transformations in the past four years that I had been a recluse. There was new music to listen to, new books to read, films to watch, and shoes to buy. Jessica loved shoes. Anna loved books and swords. She was different like that. She also loved Shane, and she couldn’t stop talking about him if we gave her a chance. Jessica was the same about Eric's dad. I envied them because I wanted to talk about my mate the same way. But the thing was that we hadn't even kissed, and I rarely let him touch me.
The biggest progress was holding hands with him when we walked in public places, just because it made me feel safer and less terrified by other men ogling at me. Men were dirty and lustful. I had never been so aware of that before. I covered myself up, just to keep them from staring at any part of my body they would find sexy. Too bad I couldn’t cover my face, even if my hair were long enough to try to, at least, cover my eyes. Even if I did it so the men wouldn't stare at me, I couldn’t help the fact that women stared at Eric openly and shamelessly.
I couldn't complain because he always introduced me as his wife. He couldn’t introduce me as his mate to the humans. I guess wife was the most appropriate term for me, even if it was so much more than that.
Wife should be a stop sign for them. At least I expected so, but let's face it, many don’t respect the sanctity of marriage anymore and would actually like the challenge.
Wife? So, what? I'm so much better than her.
For my misery, some actually were.
Eric would always smirk at me when I was jealous, but he would make the women back off like I would bite if they would dare to come closer. It wasn't so bad in town like it was in the city because supernatural beings respected the mate bond. Yet humans, who had no clue, thought they had a chance with him. As if I wouldn’t rip their heads off!
Increased jealousy syndrome was one more item to add to the list of mate bond side effects. Overwhelming fascination was another. I often wondered if he felt the same. He was always so controlled around me and others that I was beginning to think I had some kind of problem. I began to feel that my prince charming should be less of a gentleman with me. It wasn’t like I was going to get cured just by looking at him and wondering what the he truly felt and thought of me.
Was it love? Real love? Love for me, pathetic, clumsy, and ugly little me? Maybe he was also thinking that the gods were unkind to him for making me his mate. Alaric thought that about Marie.
Why wouldn't Eric think the same?
Chapter FOURTEEN
Eric
My father crossed his hands on the desk. “She needs therapy, Eric. You can’t postpone it anymore. You need to take her to the doctor.
“I can take care of her. She doesn’t need to talk to strangers about what happened to her. She needs to forget.”
“No, she needs to talk about everything she endured at the hands of those savages. Your mom also agrees. The other girls who were saved and remained here are being followed by the therapist, and they are showing improvement.” My father’s face was stern. “Have you talked to her about it?”
“I want to win her trust and prove that I’m not a threat. If I tell her that she has a problem and needs to go to a shrink, I’m afraid that she might think I believe there’s something wrong with her.”
“There’s something wrong with her. She doesn’t act like a normal person.”
My tone of voice rose up. “And how should a normal person act?”
My father kept his tone of voice low. “She doesn’t look men in the eyes. She’s always hiding in saggy clothes and covers her face with her hair. She’s often found sleeping inside the wardrobe of her bedroom instead of her bed as if she’s hiding.”
“I know.” I sighed, rubbing my temples. “But she’s been hurt, and the nightmares are constant.”
“Son, she needs professional help. We don’t know how to deal with this. Not on our own. You need to schedule an appointment with Dr. Kent, so she can evaluate Elizabeth’s condition and proceed with the proper treatment.”
“Beth isn’t crazy, she’s just hurt, and I’m sure I can cure her if …”
My father stopped my babbling with a wave of his hand. “She might need medicine. No one is saying that your mate has gone mad, but she will be better sooner if she talks with someone who can help her. Don’t you want her to get better?”
I leaned back in my chair, defeated. “I do.”
“Talk to her tonight. Take her to see the other survivors. There’s a support group she can join if she doesn’t want to start therapy right away.”
“I’ll talk with her tomorrow. I’ll invite her for dinner. We need to spend time alone.” I got up and looked at my dad. “Don’t look at me like that. The last thing Beth and I need are people feeling sorry for us. She’ll recover, and I won’t give up on her.”
“I hope you are right, Son. It would break my heart see you whither from a broken heart.”
***
Moments later, I knocked on the door before entering her bedroom. “Beth?” She was near the window, reading a book. “Aren’t you leaving your bedroom today?”
Beth looked up from the page. “Are we going somewhere today? Can’t I just stay here and read my book?”
I closed the door and headed her way. Sitting next to her, I rested my hands on my legs. “You’ve been reading for a few days, now. It’s time to leave the house and go for a walk with me. Would you like that?”
“Can we do that after I finish this chapter?”
The softness in her voice squeezed my heart. “You can. May I stay here while you finish?”
Sighing deeply, she bookmarked the book and closed it. “What did your father want with you? I sensed your arrival and went downstairs, but Rose told me that you were in the office with your dad. I didn’t want to interrupt, so I came back t
o my bedroom. Now you look serious as if you have an important thing to tell me.”
I smiled at her. “I’m not serious.”
“Does he want me to leave and believes I’ll never make you happy?”
The smile faded from my face. “Where did you get that idea from?”
“I see how people look at me. They feel sorry for my state, and they look at you as if you had the most terrible luck in the world. They pity us.” She rose up and turned her back on me. “I’m not cheerful like Jessica or fearless like Annabel.”
“You don’t need to be like them,” I assured.
She circled to face me. “How do you want me to be, then?”
“Like yourself.”
“I haven’t been feeling like myself for a long time.”
“Then be the best you can be.”
She clenched her teeth and folded her arms. “Maybe it’s best if I leave.”
My heart jumped inside my chest, and I got up. “Where?”
“Home.”
I placed my hands on her shoulders, and she looked away. “Where is home? Isn’t your home where I am? Am I not here with you?”
Squinting her eyes, she asked, “Would I break your heart even more if I left?”
“You haven’t broken my heart, yet. I’ve told you that I would wait for you to heal.”
She nibbled her lower lip. I gulped and squeezed her shoulders. “No one wants you to leave. I promise you that. Okay?”
She nodded.
“But there’s something we need to talk about.” Her eyes focused on my lips. Gaining courage, I addressed the matter at hand. “You need help to heal, Beth. Professional help.”
She snapped her eyes open and looked at me as if I had spoken a blasphemy. Pushing me back, she yelled, “What side are you on?”
I stepped back with the impact and focused on the unshed tears glowing in her eyes. “You keep having mood swings. You hide in your bedroom and sleep inside the closet. You need help. I can’t help you. I tried.”
The tears rolled down her cheeks. “Don’t you want to keep trying? Are you tired of me?”
“Of course not.” I moved forward and brushed my fingers against her cheek. “But there are things you aren’t comfortable telling me. Maybe you can heal faster if you talk with a therapist.”
She gripped my wrist and removed my hand from her face. “I’m trying to fight the depression that took over me. Reading makes me feel better. I can go places.”
“You can go places without reading, too. You are free now. Still, you act as if you are not.”
“I don’t know anyone or any place here. Where do you want me to go?” she asked with a gloomy expression that made my heart shrink. “I’m trying. I go out with your mom and your niece. I like them.”
“They like you too.”
“But I can’t pretend to be something that I’m not. I’m sorry for making you sad.”
“Beth, you don’t make me sad. But you need to step out of your comfort zone.”
“How?”
“Go out with me tomorrow, and we’ll speak about getting you help some other time. What do you say?”
“Out, like on a date?”
“Yes.”
“Just the two of us?”
I nodded. “Would you like that?”
It was her turn to nod and fill my heart with hope when her lips curled into a smile.
Chapter FIFTEEN
Elizabeth
When Eric asked me out, I wasn’t expecting that sort of date. The type of date that requires one to dress up in their best clothes and act like a human.
Ever since we’d entered that fancy French restaurant, I wished a big hole to appear under my feet and swallow me whole. Saying that I was feeling uncomfortable was a huge understatement.
As for Eric, he looked as gorgeous and flawless as ever. While I knew that I looked like crap. A beggar in the middle of the rich people. I was under-dressed for that place. I had really wished that he had told me where we were going before we left the palace. He had said it was a surprise. It didn't seem like a surprise to me! It seemed like he wanted to humiliate me and make me feel ashamed by the way I looked and was dressed.
I badly wanted to run away from there and crawl into the safe confines of my room while crying my heart out. The way the waiter was looking at me, wasn't helping either. When he explained the menu in French with a smug smile and judgmental eyes, I snapped. I'm French, and his accent sucked!
Once the garçon finished, he smiled at Eric and stared at me, daring me to speak or choose what I wanted to eat. I stared at his neck, watching how the jugular pulsed. He was lucky I wasn’t that hungry, and he didn't smell delicious. He actually smelled of grease and drugs.
“Mademoiselle, votre choix?” the waiter asked me.
I continued speaking in French, “Could you please repeat. I’m afraid that I couldn’t quite understand due to your accent.”
It was my turn to smirk at him.
He lost his smug grin rather quickly. “Do you understand French?”
“Of course, I'm French,” I told him matter-of-factly.
“Could you excuse us for a moment? We will look at the menu, and I'll call you when we are ready to order,” Eric interrupted my little chitchat with the guy.
The waiter left, and I stared at Eric with murderous eyes.
“Didn't you like the restaurant?” Eric asked. He put down the menu as he appeared to be uncomfortable by my behavior.
“Do I look like someone who likes being here?” I muttered.
I think my eye-color changed because he went pale. I closed my eyes before anyone could notice and clenched my jaw. Luckily, my fangs hadn’t come out. Still, I didn't want him to see my black eyes. I felt mortified. My eyes were dark, not amber or purple like the vampires who don't drink from the source.
I put my sunglasses on. I never leave the house without them. It was my protection from other people's stares and for moments like these.
“Excuse me,” I requested.
I got up and pretended I was heading to the bathroom. Instead, I left the restaurant into the chilly night air.
It was darkening fast. I looked down both sides of the road, not knowing where to go. I wanted to go home, but I had no home here or any other safe place to go. His home was the last place I wanted to go. Being outside waiting for him to find out that I left wasn't an option.
Breathing deeply, I fisted my hands and mingled into the crowd of people passing by. I hoped to disappear until I found a nice place to hide and return to my own insignificance in the world.
“Where do you think you are going?” Eric asked, appearing next to me.
I hadn’t run fast or far enough since he found me rather quickly. Liking it or not, I felt relieved that he chased after me. Yet I wasn’t going to confess that. Never.
I muttered as I marched, “Far away from that stupid place.”
“I thought you would like to go there.”
I halted and looked at him, trying to understand if he was serious. My eyes were black, I knew it, I was mad at him, so I was happy I had my glasses still on.
“Are you joking with me? Did you take me there, so I would feel bad? To feel like crap? Is that your fucking twisted way to humiliate me?”
I was losing it.
Eric pulled me to an alley, so other people wouldn't stop and stare at us, or rather me, arguing.
“I was trying to spend more time alone with you! A place with people, so you would feel safe around me. A place that would remind you of home.”
“Well, your plan sucked!” I said, folding my arms over my chest with an angry face.
After a while of staring at me in silence, he asked, “Why didn't you like the restaurant?”
“Are you blind? Didn't you see how everybody looked at me? I'm not dressed to be in a place like that! And you were inconsiderate! You didn't even ask me to dress properly.”
“I think you look just fine.”
I unfo
lded my arms and balled my hands. “Well, you were the only one to think that!”
“Who cares what they think?”
I didn’t bother to answer him. I just turned my back on him and walked away. I needed to clear my head. I was fuming, and I would eventually burst into tears if I continued there, with him staring at me like I was out of my mind. Why couldn't he understand? I wasn’t overreacting. I wasn't ready to go to a place where people would judge the way I dressed and looked. I wasn't ready to dress in fancy clothes and act normal either. All I wanted to do was run away to my bedroom and snuggle in bed with a book.
Why did I ever accept going on a date with him?
Chapter SIXTEEN
Elizabeth
“Stop stalking me!” I snapped.
Eric kept following me down the street with his hands in his pockets—bodyguard style—and miserable face with gloomy eyes.
Then, it began to rain. Out of the blue as if the gods were mocking me.
“Seriously!” I ranted at the sky.
“Let’s go inside,” Eric suggested, entwining our arms together.
I looked at the small coffee shop he was pointing at. It seemed cozy and casual enough, so I followed him inside.
Eric ordered two coffees as we sat at a small table next to the window where I had a privileged view over the falling rain. The sound relaxed me. The coffee wasn’t good, but it was warm. I liked the feeling of warm liquid in my stomach on cold, rainy days.
“Next time, our date will be having a coffee together,” Eric said, breaking the silence. “Would you rather enjoy that?”
I played with my sunglasses that were next to the cup of coffee. Maybe I was overreacting and was being hysterical. Perhaps he didn’t want to make me feel bad at all. The problem was that I was feeling like crap and just wanted to hide from everybody. I always felt unworthy next to Eric. People would stare at me like I was an ugly duckling, trying to understand why on Earth he dated this shy and poorly dressed, skinny, pale girl.
“Going out for an ice-cream would be just fine. I love ice-cream,” I said, in a lame attempt to say I was sorry and that I was giving him another chance to redeem himself.