by S. L. Naeole
And when she said few, she meant a few dozen. I felt like an overused mannequin by the time she clapped her hands and cheered over a short, frilly gown of red that was so sheer, I could have sworn being naked felt more modest.
“You look divine,” she said to me before handing me a robe that was just a tad bit more substantial than the gown. “You cannot just wear the dress, however. This must be seen first. Let the reveal be…slow. Let it be tantalizing and teasing.”
I giggled at her voice, how she lowered it into something she intended to be sultry, and instead just sounded rough—phlegmy.
“Do I have to talk like you, too?”
She straightened her back, the offense noted, and she shook her head. “No. You can continue to giggle like a little girl and maybe that’ll be enough. Or not.”
She turned away to leave me to undress, and I immediately felt bad. My mouth had grown just as clumsy as my hands had, and I felt ashamed when I walked up to the counter to pay for the gown and robe and saw that the friendly smile that should have been there—even if only for the sale—had vanished, and was replaced by a stern line of thick disapproval.
“Thank you for your help,” I said as the lady swiped the plastic card I gave her.
“You’re welcome,” she bit back before yanking the paper receipt from the register and handing it to me to sign.
The exchange was swift, clinical, and then I was out of the store and into the nearly empty hallway of the mall, the store gate slamming shut behind me. Realizing the time, I raced to find my bike, hidden behind a dumpster near the back exit, and I pumped my legs, pushing myself harder than I should have to get to the house.
As I expected, the house was dark. Using my key, I let myself in through the front door, closing it carefully before feeling my way through the foyer and into the kitchen of Robert’s home. My feet knew the way from there and I followed them as they pulled me towards Robert’s room. Only when I was safely inside did I turn the light on, revealing that everything was as it had been the day I left. My legs were throbbing, and I realized that I also stunk. I tossed the bag that had been clutched so tightly in my hand the entire ride here onto the bed and then dashed into the shower to wash off the exhaustion and funk that covered my body.
After wrapping myself up in a towel once I was done, I left the room to tiptoe upstairs into Lark’s room. It was empty, and as quickly as I could, I walked to her vanity and swiped a tube of what I could only hope was a pleasant shade of lipstick. Knowing that I might not have that much time, I ran downstairs, slamming into the corner of the couch and letting out a not-so-muffled curse before I returned to Robert’s room, closing the door and grabbing the bag from off of the bed.
Carefully, I began to assemble myself in the red frock, the matching underwear causing me to shudder at its total lack of substance. The robe, I realized, was far more concealing than I originally thought, and I was thankful for it, even as I was angry that things had come to this point.
I felt uncomfortable, exposed, and nervous. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw that my cheeks were flush with something that I wanted to believe was excitement, but that I knew came more from shame than anything else. Shame that I thought this was necessary, shame that I wasn’t enough.
The tube of lipstick in my hand turned out to be some god awful shade of red that was so bright, it made my lips look like they were on fire, but it was all I had.
And then the waiting game began. My brush, still sitting at the end of the counter in the bathroom, had been swiped through my hair over a dozen times, and I’d brushed my teeth enough times to hear them squeak.
I thought about what would happen, over and over in my head, playing out different scenarios to see which would be the most optimal, but each time I did, even my fantasies chickened out on me and stopped before anything could happen. Finally, I realized that standing in the middle of a brightly lit room would not be seductive at all, that the best light that I could possibly get would be from the high moon shining through the window, and so with a sigh that I hoped would not be the last, I flipped the switch off and waited.
By the time I had begun to pace, my bathroom dash to recheck my appearance now a distant ten minutes past me, an entire hour had gone by. What if he didn’t show up at all? He had been busy, after all, and tonight should have been no different.
I sat down once more on the edge of the bed, needing to clear my thoughts before I ended up screaming with all of the “what ifs” that continued to bombard my brain. I lied down after a few more minutes, and soon found myself drifting off to sleep, the coolness of the night prickling my skin and triggering dreams that were unnatural in how they made me feel.
I woke up in a flushed heat, my breaths ragged and harsh. The sound of movement outside of the door forced my hand to my chest, to still the slamming of my heart and the audible rise and fall of my breathing.
A sliver of light cut beneath the door and when it opened to reveal a column of brightness, I stood up with an expectant smile on my face. Robert walked in, his devilish grin one that made my heart forget what I had been telling it to do, and instead began to gallop within me, a steady rhythm that sent heat to my skin in one tidal wave of excitement. How could a simple—yet expensive—piece of clothing cause such a reaction out of me?
I stepped forward, my hand falling from the edges of the robe, and I smiled at him, meeting his eyes and seeing a spark there that gave me hope.
And then the hope died.
The spark turned into shock, and then guilt, and then my eyes saw that his arm, the arm that should have been holding me, that should have been welcoming me home, was drawn behind him, his hand ending where another’s begun.
My eyes traveled to another pair, these eyes shaded a brilliant violet, their sparkle, their shine telling me that she was filled with as much happiness and want as I was with heartache and betrayal. She was beautiful, her face heart-shaped and the color of creamed coffee.
She wore her hair down, the honey waves looking like a waterfall of gold past her long neck and her creamy shoulders that were bared by her slouched blouse. She was one of them—one of his kind; one he could be with. One he wanted to be with. Recognition hit her like a thunderbolt, and I saw her pale, her skin glistening as she turned to look at Robert and then back away from him.
I, too, backed away.
“Grace-”
I wouldn’t let him speak. Hearing his voice was like hearing the echo of my heart shattering to pieces around my feet. “Don’t. Say. Anything.” It was a demand. It was an order. It was a plea.
I walked calmly to the dresser, a repeated action that I had not hoped to make yet again so soon after the first time, and I pulled out some clothes.
I walked to the bathroom, my head held proudly high, and I changed, not daring to look at myself in the mirror for fear of seeing the pain there and never being able to recover from it. I pulled on a pair of baggy jeans and a shirt that I remembered Graham buying for me a few years back.
I picked up the vile red garments and tossed them into the wastebasket, and then swiped at my mouth with a wad of toilet paper before tossing that, too, into the trashcan. I reached into the shower to grab my hair tie and pulled my hair into a quick and messy ponytail, and then, taking several deep breaths, stepped outside into the room where Robert still stood, the girl beside him hanging her head down low in shame.
I said nothing to either of them. I walked past them and through the house. I placed the key to the front door on the table inside the foyer and then quietly stepped outside. My bike still lay on the ground, a sign that Robert probably ignored because of the beautiful guest he had brought with him.
I picked it up and slowly walked it down the driveway. The gate was open, and I walked through it while the demon of betrayal mocked me with every step. I could hear in my head now all of the questions, the taunting thoughts that all repeated how it wasn’t possible that someone like Robert would find me attractive, that he was just feel
ing sorry for me. And they all took on the voice of one person. The only person who had ever caused me to doubt Robert’s love for me.
“You evil, bastard,” I hissed. “Even dead you still manage to get to me.”
I stopped then. Though I hadn’t shed a single tear and had remained steadfast and stoic, my face felt heavy, swollen with emotions that had not been released. And that’s exactly what I wanted to do. Only not alone, and not to myself. The bike slipped from my hands and I turned around. Determined steps led me back to the house, the lights now all on, until I was back in Robert’s room, watching an exchange between him and the beautiful angel.
Though it was silent, I could almost feel the words of accusation; hear them as though I could pluck them straight from the air. It was a fight between lovers, one that would not have existed if not for me. If I had remained at home and sulked like the good girl, the empathic girl who could not be happy unless everyone else was then they would be doing something else, and that pissed me off.
Their faces turned to look at me, and I saw surprise on the girl’s face, surprise that made me feel somewhat triumphant. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to read my thoughts, but I gave her a smug smile that told her without words that she would not succeed. Pain had shut that door—I wasn’t letting anyone else in there. Not anymore.
“She keeps her thoughts hidden, N’Uriel,” she finally said aloud, her accent thick, her voice a smooth base that surprised me.
“She’s special that way,” Robert agreed, his eyes focused on mine, his pupils thickening and thinning with each beat of my heart he heard.
“Why did she return? Ask her.”
“Why don’t you ask me yourself?” I said snidely.
“Because you’re not worthy of being asked,” she replied, her tone dark, the threat hidden in words that were never meant to insult because they were the truth.
“If you want to know, I returned because I’m not done here yet. I have some unfinished business with Robert. If you want to stay and wait until I’m done with him you can. Until then, I suggest you leave.” My voice sounded different. Defiant, strong. It didn’t matter that I was hanging on by a mere thread of stubbornness.
“N’Uriel, why do you bother with this trifling human child? Kill her and be done with it already—toying with her will do none of us any good.” The angel with the violet eyes looked at me one last time and disappeared in a puff of vapor, the slow slide of it easing past me and out the door. I kicked it shut and then turned accusing eyes towards Robert.
“Grace-” he began but I held my hand up to silence him.
“No. No, you’re going to listen to me. You’re going to listen to me and you’re not going to say anything to me. Not a single word because I’m not just some ‘trifling human child’. I’m your wife. Even if it’s only in name, it’s what I am, and until that can be changed, right now you owe me that much.”
When he said nothing, staring at me mutely, I continued. “I came here tonight because I thought that perhaps I’ve been going about this entire marriage thing all wrong. I thought that I hadn’t been trying to look appealing to you, that I had failed at looking—provocative. I thought that if I came here wearing next to nothing, that you’d swear to never leave my side again, that you’d make love to me and that we’d finally be able to start our life together as a married couple.
“I realize now that I was wrong, and that I was stupid to think that you could look at me the same way I look at you. It’s simply not possible, and I’m sorry for putting that expectation on you when there was no way that you could possibly meet it.”
I stared at the ground while my mind continued to form the words that I wanted to say. When I looked up again, Robert was standing much closer to me. I didn’t flinch.
“I don’t want to continue to pretend that we’re married—or not married—anymore. It should’ve never happened. I know you only did it to make me happy because I whined like a damn baby about it, but I’d rather have nothing at all and be content with that than sit at home alone every night and question everything that you’ve ever said to me.”
“What are you saying, Grace?”
“I want…I want an annulment. We haven’t consummated the marriage yet, which I guess was the plan from the very beginning, so there’s nothing legally that can prevent us from having this marriage annulled.”
“No.”
“I’m not asking you, Robert, and you don’t really have a choice. Tomorrow I’m going to start filing the papers-”
“It’s not going to happen, Grace.”
His eyes darkened, the storm had returned and I struggled to keep my composure as his voice washed over me while he spoke. “You aren’t going to leave me. You’re not going to end this marriage, not after everything that we’ve been through to be together.”
“It was never going to last anyway, Robert,” I reminded him. “I’m going to die. The call is going to come at any moment, and I don’t want to spend what little time I have left waiting for someone who doesn’t want me.”
“But I do want you!”
“Not enough to actually be with me,” I countered.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course I don’t. You don’t talk to me—you’ve been avoiding me and hiding from me and all that’s left of you when you are with me is a shell, an empty shell.”
“Grace, would you stop with this nonsense?” His hands gripped my arms, but I couldn’t feel them. I was too cold inside.
“It’s not nonsense! You left me, Robert. You brought me here to your home and then left me here. You came only to take me to school and then pick me up. You treated me as if I was your duty, rather than your wife. Every night I waited for you to come to me, and every night you were doing who knows what, and with who knows who?”
“Grace-”
“No, Robert. I’m done with the excuses and the half-assed explanations. I made an ass out myself tonight because I thought that wearing that stupid nightgown would make you want me. Now I see that I had it completely wrong. It wouldn’t have mattered if I was standing butt-naked in the middle of this room when you walked in because you wouldn’t have noticed anyway.”
“I noticed! I noticed every single inch of you in that red negligee!”
My words caught in my throat. Was that what that thing was called? A negligee?
“Well good for you. It’s on the bathroom floor if you want to keep it. I paid for it using your card,” I snipped.
“That’s unkind and unlike you, Grace.”
“Yes, it is, and I really don’t care. I’ve given up on trying to be what you want, Robert. Everything you’ve asked me for, I’ve done or given to you. You wanted me to turn, I agreed, and then you refused to do it. You wanted me to marry you, and I agreed, then you refused to do it because it didn’t fall in lines with ‘the plan’. You wanted me to wait for us to be together, and I did, and now I discover that while I’ve been doing all this waiting, you’re bringing other women into your room.
“I’m done with this, Robert. I can’t do this anymore. It hurts too much to pretend that it doesn’t, and it hurts too much to pretend that what we have is anything but a great big joke.” I pulled off the large sapphire ring from my right hand, and then the top silver band from my left.
I held them out in my open palm. “Here, take them.”
“I’m not taking those from you.”
“Take them or I’ll drop them.”
His hands left my arms and quickly snatched the two silver rings from my palm. But, rather than shove them into his pocket, or place them atop the shelf behind him, he grabbed my hands and slipped the rings back into place.
“You’re not leaving me, Grace, and you’re not going to continue to think that I don’t want you.”
“I can think what I whatever I want, especially if it’s true.”
He shrugged. “Well then you’re heinously and most embarrassingly wrong.”
I looked
at him and then at the door, suddenly realizing that perhaps confronting him like this was not such a good idea, His eyes caught what I had been looking at and with a swift wave of his hand, the door slammed shut. I rushed to it and pulled at the handle, twisting it every which way and finding that nothing I did would cause it to budge. It didn’t even rattle.
“Open this door,” I demanded.
“Not until you sit down and listen to what I have to say. I listened to you, after all, and if this marriage is going to work, then there has to be some balance involved.”
I scoffed at his logic and reminded him of the reason why. “Balance? You think that bringing home another woman while you think your wife’s away is balanced?”
“She wasn’t just another woman, Grace. I had no plans on being with her, or anyone for that matter, except you.”
“Oh please,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “I saw the way she looked at you, the way you looked at her. You were holding her hand, leading her inside the same way you did me.”
“Grace, sometimes you’re so obtuse it’s scary.”
It was automatic. My hand lashed out, coming within millimeters of his face before his own hand grabbed my wrist and stopped its approach. “I was not bringing anyone in here to have sex with, or make love to. I was bringing Isis here to trap her.”
“Is that her name? Isis?”
“Did you not hear me, Grace?”
“I heard you. Why would you need to trap her? She seemed willing enough to be with you.”
“She was willing, but I wasn’t. I brought her here on the pretense that we would become intimate, yes, but it was never my intent to actually do so. I was going to trap her here so that I could finally put an end to the madness that’s been going on.”
The harsh tone in his voice caused all of my thoughts to careen into each other. “What do you mean?”
“I know you haven’t been paying attention to what’s been going on outside of your own little world, but there has been several terrible incidents across this globe that have kept me very busy, Grace.