He sighs and sort of glances around, as if for someone to help him talk to me. Obviously there is no one, and his gaze wanders back to me, but he looks a little lost, a little helpless.
“This isn’t…. I don’t want things to be like this.”
I don’t dignify that with a response.
He continues. “What if we… what if we went on, like, a date night or something?”
I’m grossed out that he used the words “date night,” but much more so that he used them in reference to something we would do, like an actual fucking married couple.
Instead of showing the disgust I’m swimming in, I display the complete and utter fucking befuddlement with a blank stare. “Why?”
It ruffles him, like it was meant to. Finally something familiar happens and he clams up, growing angrily defensive, like a little boy who answered wrong in class and got laughed at. “I don’t know. Jesus Christ, I try to suggest something nice…”
“We don’t do nice things, Paul.”
“And it’s so wrong to want to change that?” His voice rises now. I’m surprised it’s taken this long. He usually resorts to yelling much faster. “You’re my—” He stops short of calling me his wife, and I watch him wrestle with his temper for a minute.
This is new. He usually lets it run wild and free, but I guess the fear of Liam provides better incentive than I expected.
Once he’s had a minute to reign it in, he continues more evenly. “I have a proposition. Something for you to think about.”
I’m silent, but I’m listening.
“What if we gave this a real try? You stop fucking Thor, I’ll stop fucking Marlene, and we could maybe give this a real go. See what happens.”
I’m completely shocked. I don’t show it. I remain impassive, unsure how to play this. I couldn’t be less interested—if he stopped sleeping with that girl, he’d want to sleep with me, and ew. I also have no interest whatsoever in growing a relationship with him. He’s the worst. We’ve never been anything. I wasn’t interested at the beginning, anywhere in the middle, and I’m damn sure not interested at the end.
I don’t know how to say that. I want to laugh, but he seems as sincere as I’ve seen Paul, so I don’t. Who knows, maybe Marlene is sweet enough not to engage his Hulk side. Maybe we bring out the worst in each other. He certainly brings out the worst in me. This can’t be his best side, or no one would ever want him, and women have. For some reason.
Gross.
The kindest thing I can do is turn and walk away from him, so that’s what I do. I drop my shawl over by my bedside table and climb into bed, digging under my fortress of blankets. I’m too tired for him to spring shit like this on me.
He stands in the doorway for a long time. Or, it feels like a long time. Maybe it’s only a few minutes, but they’re long, awkward minutes. Finally he gives up and heads back to the kitchen.
I close my eyes and search for my safety. It’s here somewhere. My eyes open and I check the windows one last time.
Disappointed, I close my eyes and steady my breathing.
My eyes open again, parted by some instinct, and I’m not sure, but I saw a flash of something at the edge of the window.
I keep my eyes open that time, staring at the spot. Nothing moves, but I’m sure I saw something, so I throw back my covers and pad over to the window. Pressing close to the pane of glass, I look, but see nothing. A woman on a mission, I unlock the window and lift it, popping my head outside to check both directions.
Nothing.
Maybe it had just been wishful thinking. Maybe I saw what I wanted to see.
I frown, disappointed, and head back to bed.
Annabelle
Another week passes and nothing happens.
No Liam sightings, no sudden, inexplicable love for Paul. After a couple of days without interest, Paul went back to Marlene.
Maybe tha
t’s why he did this. Maybe he was so mad at me for not jumping at the offer to suddenly try for a relationship I had never wanted, he decided to punish me. He couldn’t inflict bodily harm on me, since he still thinks I’m having an affair with Liam, but he could drag me to my old home and force me to sit through a ‘family dinner’ with the snakes who currently reside in it.