War of Hearts

I jolted when the bedroom door opened. Marco hadn’t bothered to knock.

I didn’t look at him, but I could feel his approach. He set down a glass of water and a plated grilled cheese sandwich beside my notes.

“Eat your lunch, princess. You didn’t have enough eggs earlier. I know you must be hungry.”

I nodded, a rote motion. I wasn’t hungry. I was just… empty.

He tucked my hair behind my ear, and I flinched. He withdrew slowly. I could feel the weight of his eyes considering me, but I kept my gaze glued to my notes.

He sighed. “I’ll be back for that plate in half an hour. I expect it to be empty. Do you understand?”

He was using that authoritative tone again. So, I nodded my agreement.

Another beat of heavy silence passed before his footsteps retreated. Moving as though in a dream, I ate the sandwich. It was perfect; just crispy enough, with at least four types of gooey cheese inside. The flavors were comforting, and I devoured the whole thing in a matter of minutes without thinking.

When I was finished, I drained the glass of water and went back to staring at my notes.

Marco came to retrieve the plate a while later. His murmured “good girl” made a thread of warmth curl in my chest, but it did little to ease the chill inside.

Time passed. I went through the notes again, flipping the pages every few minutes to give myself something to do.

I didn’t realize that night was falling until Marco came and flipped on the light. I blinked against the sudden illumination, but I kept my eyes downcast when he approached with a plate of lasagna.

“When you’re finished, brush your teeth and get ready for bed,” he ordered.

It seemed early for that, but I wasn’t really doing anything, anyway. Sleep sounded like a good idea.

I nodded again.

I did as he instructed, and a while later, my mouth tasted minty fresh as I tucked myself under the duvet. The silky pink nightgown Joseph had bought for me glided across my skin as I moved, but I barely registered the decadent sensation. I closed my eyes and drifted, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

Sometime later, the soft click of the bedside lamp turning on roused me. I rolled onto my back and opened my eyes to find Joseph looking down at me, a small smile curving his sensual lips.

“Hey, angel. I missed you.”

A harsh sob tore from my chest, and I turned my face into the pillow. I couldn’t face him. I couldn’t confess what I’d done. I couldn’t lose him.

He shushed me gently and sat on the bed beside me. His strong arms closed around me, lifting me so I rested against his chest. He rubbed his hand up and down my back, trying to soothe me.

Once I confessed, he would never hold me again. I sobbed harder, clinging to him.

“I’m sorry,” I forced out. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said gently, continuing to stroke and comfort me. “You’re okay. Don’t cry, angel.”

“But I… You don’t know…” I choked on the words, unable to voice the depth of my betrayal.

“Marco told me what happened. It’s okay.”

My next sob caught in my throat. I blinked hard to clear my tears away. I peered up at him to read his expression.

“What?” I asked thickly.

He smoothed my hair back from my forehead. “It’s okay,” he said again. “I know what happened, and it’s okay.”

I shook my head. “You don’t understand,” I said, each word causing pain to knife through my chest. “I kissed him back.”

“I know. And I’m not upset with you, angel.”