Page 6 of House of Lies

“I’m not hungry.”

“Caelia,” he begins, but I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

He leaves the door ajar behind him, something he never does when he comes to abuse me. I still haven’t figured out if he’s doing it for my sake or his. His employees know what kind of man he is. They know what kind of marriage I’m into. They do nothing to help me, and I don’t expect them to. No one can save me but myself.

“Could you please join me for dinner? We can sit at opposite ends of the table if you prefer. Just come and have something to eat.”

My temples throb. I’ve spent too much time wondering about his endgame, and I’ve come up with nothing.

“I’m not hungry.” I know that repeating myself might make him mad, but I just don’t care. I stopped caring a while ago, and it doesn’t make my life any easier.

“Right.” He rubs his temples and takes a step closer to my bed.

I wish I could make myself smaller and invisible. Mattia settles on the edge of the bed, too close to my legs for comfort, and I flinch. He glances over his shoulder, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. The surrounding air feels tense, making me nauseous. I don’t understand the game he’s playing.

“Some things will change in this house.” His voice is dead-cold. “Starting now.”

“Like what?”

“First, we’re going to have dinner together every night.”

His cologne makes my nose wrinkle. He didn’t go back to the old one I detested. He still smells of sandalwood, like he did that night at the party when he touched me more than he had since we’d been married. It’s distracting. I don’t understand what he is doing.

“I think I’ll pass. Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a request, Caelia.”

“No, that would imply that you’d have to say please.”

“Is this what you want from me? To beg you for your time?”

He talks like he’s drunk, but he doesn’t look like it. My time? Since when does he want to spend time in my company?

“Since when do you care about what I want?”

He loosens his tie, the only sign that he might lose his patience with me. His hands are tattooed, although I’ve never stared at them for long. His fingers are long, almost delicate. But I am aware of the violence those hands can unleash. They’ve left me battered and bloodied on countless occasions. They’ve clenched around my throat. They’ve submerged my head underwater. Those hands have brought me nothing but agony.

“I’ve told you that some things will change.”

“And this is one of them?” I laugh, readjusting the blanket on my feet. I need something to keep me distracted.

“It is.”

“What else is going to change?”

“This nonsense of us sleeping in different rooms.”

Oh God, no. I look at him dumbfounded, blinking quickly. The rhythm of my heart races, and it gets harder to breathe. I wipe my sweaty palms on the blanket. I used to be stupid and naïve once. I used to think that we were going to make this marriage work. I’ve seen it happen before, and I know it’s not a far-fetched dream. But Mattia didn’t want to try. He didn’t give me a chance, hating me from the start and reminding me every so often. He turned this marriage into a war, and I’ve always been on the losing side.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“This is a marriage, so we’ll treat it like one.”

“An arranged marriage,” I point out. “You’re slightly delusional if you think I’m just going to have dinner and share my bed with you every night like nothing happened. Our vows meant nothing to you, Mattia. So you can go fuck yourself!”

I have a sense of déjà vu. This is how every single one of our fights starts. Mattia is too proud to allow someone to speak with him like this; in the end, he’ll have his way. I’ll fight him until my last breath, although I know the ending can’t be changed.

“I’m trying to fix things, Caelia. I’m trying to do better.”

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