The Husband Beside Me(40)

“Is that what you do? Do you wait until I’m not home and hang out with Darren?” he accused.

“Are you smoking crack? Did you even hear anything I said to him?” I fired back.

“I can’t believe you. After everything you made me feel guilty for and here you are doing the very same thing,” he barked.

“You’re crazy! You are nuts!” I shook my head and left him in the foyer.

“It’s Darren you want,” he snapped.

“Like I told you before. YOU ARE MY HUSBAND! NOT ANYONE ELSE. JUST YOU!” I shouted at him. “I told him I understood why you felt the way you did. I backed you up, you asshole. Why I did? I couldn’t even tell you,” I spewed. “Did you or did you not block his phone number from my phone?” I cried out.

“So what if I did?” he said gruffly.

“Trust, Daimon. Do you even know what that means? Why can’t you just trust me?”

“Are you being serious now? Of course I don’t trust you,” he said coldly.

“That’s too bad. I actually feel sorry for you now. It must be a lonely existence to not have one person on this earth you can rely on or trust. You call me pathetic and petty. You should seriously look at yourself in the mirror once in a while,” I said bluntly. Daimon stood brooding.

“You were always such a bitch.” His words were mean and callous, but then again so were mine. Daimon left that night, breaking our contract rules.

It was our first New Year’s and we spent it apart.





The Next Day


I was awoken by the elevator door opening. I had fallen asleep on the couch with Drako at my feet. I hadn’t realized until the moment I heard Daimon come home. I stirred and stretched out my body; it ached since I was curled up into a small ball. I picked up my iPhone and looked at the time. It was ten thirty in the morning. I swallowed whatever pride I had left and went up to our bedroom, half-anticipating Daimon ready to yell at me. Once I entered, I heard the shower go on. I saw his white buttoned-down shirt thrown onto the floor along with his suit jacket. I knelt down and picked it up, a strong smell of perfume hit my nose. The smell was floral with a hint of berries. I held onto the shirt, my knuckles nearly turning white from my grip. A small pink stain was smudged onto the collar. The bathroom door opened. Daimon, acting like I wasn’t even there, passed me by as he went to his closet to get dressed.

I felt utterly listless as disappointment ran through me. I could hear him getting dressed to leave. I stood up from where I knelt down and left his shirt on the ground. I walked into the bathroom before I could see him again. I stood in the middle of the bathroom and waited until I heard him leave. Not once did he hesitate, not once did he make an effort to speak to me. Two questions ran through my mind. What did I do that was so bad that he needed to leave? And what did he exactly do last night?

I walked up to the counter and braced myself. My heart constricted as various images of Daimon with someone else floated around in my thoughts. I could barely look at myself in the mirror, not wanting to see the one who sold herself. I yanked off the clothes I was wearing and stepped into the shower. Taking the loofah sponge, I roughly brushed at my skin, wanting to wash off the feeling of filth staining my skin. I literally hated myself and the decision I made. The bitterness still inside me as I remembered how happy Sofia looked ate away at me, while the words Daimon’s father spoke rang true. Who was I really? What had happened to the Addie who had dreams and desires? I stepped out of the shower and dressed in silence. I was not going to stay here and wait until Daimon was ready. I was going to go out and find out just who the hell I was exactly.

Texting Elissa, I asked her to meet with me.



“So you got into a fight with old blue eyes, did ya?” she asked, blowing on her coffee as we sat at a local café, called Café Grumpy.

The red brick, the down-to-earth employees, the great coffee and the fresh air were exactly what I needed. Staying cooped up in the stupid penthouse was suffocating me.

“Fuck him,” I said, picking up my giant oatmeal cookie.

“Do tell.” She smiled as she put down her coffee and waited.

“There’s nothing to say. He’s just an asshole who thinks only about himself and doesn’t care about how I feel. He orders me around because he can’t trust me, and I’m stuck trying to figure out the fact as to why I married him, and if the reasons were good enough to have me suffer this way,” I finished my little tirade and I let out a breath.

“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” she said sarcastically.

“I went to see Sofia over the break,” I continued.