Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“Did you resist her? Why did you marry her?”
“I was forced to. It was the reason I wasn’t killed by Richard to begin with. He wanted me to marry his daughter, and that was the only way to survive. I was living one day at a time and trying to figure out a way to get out of there.”
“Okay… I get that. But then why stay with her now? You aren’t forced to be with her now to survive.”
I sit back and release a rush of air from my lungs. I don’t know how honest to be with her. I don’t want to hurt her any more than I have to, but I also know if I’m truly honest, the words will sting like a son of a bitch.
“You’re home,” she adds. “I’m here, and I can be here for you while you recover.”
“I’m married, Marissa,” I state firmly. “I know you and others don’t think I’m really married, considering how it was done and the legalities of it, but I made more than one vow to Ember. Something happened while we were locked up together. A bond and connection I’ve never had with anyone else. I’m sorry, as I know this has to be tough to hear. We both lived through something I can never explain, because there are no real words. I see her as my wife, just as she sees me as her husband.”
“But do you love her?”
I reach for my beer as I consider the question. “I do.” I look up at her and see tears wetting her eyes. “I know it’s hard to believe. But I do. Trust me, I didn’t think it was possible, and at the beginning, I was playing along so I could try to escape. But things changed. We changed while there. And yes, I do love Ember.” I pause, taking a drink so I can wash away the words I know just destroyed the woman in front of me. “I’m sorry, Marissa. I truly am.”
“I don’t believe you. Or maybe you think you love her. But I think you feel a sense of responsibility for her. I think you know she has no one but you, so you feel guilty. I think you may be suffering from survivor’s guilt or PTSD or something. But I don’t think you truly love her.”
I nodded. “I’m sure you’re right in the fact that I’m suffering from all that. And yes, I do feel a sense of responsibility for her. I have an almost primal need to protect her. But that doesn’t change the fact that I do love her, and I have no intention of ending the marriage with her.”
She wipes at a falling tear. “Did you ever love me?”
“I did. But I’m not the same man anymore. Maybe I’m worse off, maybe better in some ways. Regardless, I’m not the same man.”
“Your mother told me that Ember is crazy. Certifiably insane. She told me that you feel like you have to protect her. That you feel responsible. Could you be mistaking that as love?”
“She’s not crazy,” I snap. “Maybe broken, but then so am I. My mother has no idea. No one does. Until you face death head-on and worry if you’re going to live another day, no one can judge us.”
“It’s not just your mother talking. Christopher, you look crazy too. You brought home this waif of a woman who is batshit crazy, and you’re calling her your wife. And then you go on national television announcing it to all. I think you’re fucked in the head.” She pauses and swallows hard. “Which I understand after what you went through. But I’m here to try to talk some reason into you.”
“She’s my wife. She is. I’m sorry, but nothing you, my mother, or anyone else can say will change that.”
“You always told me that what you liked about me was my independence. You liked that I didn’t have to be rescued or taken care of. And yet, now you brought home a stray who needs you. Needs you.” Her voice is rising, and I can see the pain on her face is quickly being replaced by anger.
I reach across the table to pat her hand, which she pulls away from as if I just burned her. “I know I hurt you. I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear when you flew across the country. But it’s the truth.”
Marissa reaches for a napkin and starts dabbing at her eyes, careful not to smear her makeup. “I feel like you’re self-destructing, and I’m watching you die right in front of me. This isn’t you, Christopher. This isn’t you.”
“I agree with you that the Christopher who was your boyfriend months ago is not me. I agree.”
“Let me stay with you tonight.” When I open my mouth to object, she quickly adds, “One night. Just for you to see what it’s like to be with me again. To remind you of what we had. Maybe so we can find that man you lost again. I think he’s still in there. I believe you still love me. Let me show you. Can you at least give me that? One night?”