Page 27 of Brutal Husband

Occasionally, I see him examining the tattoos on his arms as if he’s never seen them before. I don’t know the meaning behind his ink because I never thought to ask him about it before we were married, and now it’s too late.

I can’t take much more of our silent, unhappy home. I’m not giving a man who doesn’t love me five years of my life for a “mistake” I can’t and won’t own. I’ll give Nerooneyear. Twelve months, and if he hasn’t changed his mind and begged my forgiveness, I’ll leave this marriage on our anniversary with my head held high. Maybe I’ll be broke, but I’d rather struggle on my own than live in cold, loveless luxury for the rest of my life.

Meanwhile, I make friends with one of my neighbors. Her name is Annie, and she’s married to a man who owns a construction company. I tell her my husband is in imports, which is more or less the truth. I can’t tell Annie about my marriage being arranged or that I think my husband murdered a man on our wedding night, but over numerous cups of coffee in her kitchen and mine, I confide that I’m having marital problems. She can see for herself that Nero is rarely home. I gaze enviously at her two children, eight-year-old Harriet and six-year-old Noah.

“Do you want children?” Annie asks me one day.

“That was the plan,” I tell her.

To my horror, I burst into tears. It’s not just longing for a child that has worn me down, but Nero’s cold rejection. No one’s held me in such a long time, and I can vividly remember that my husband and I were fire together. That first blissful time with Nero is burned into my brain. Delicious, illicit sex in the middle of the day on his desk when he was so eager to fuck his baby into me. I was queen of the world at that moment.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” Annie says, fetching a box of tissues for me.

Annie promises me that if I decide to leave Nero, I’m welcome in her home until I get on my feet. I thank her with more tears because I’m not used to the kindness of others.

As my secret deadline approaches, I begin to care less and less about playing the humble, chaste, smiling, obedient wife.

One evening when Nero’s on his way out without any explanation of where he’s going, I call after him, “How are we meant to start a family when you won’t even touch me?”

Nero pauses and glances over his shoulder. “You want children?”

“That’s what we talked about when we were engaged.”

“I didn’t think you were still interested. You haven’t asked for anything since we were married.”

Like I’d change my mind about something so important. “I’ve been trying to be a good wife. I hoped you would forgive me for myterrible mistake.” There’s a heavy dose of sarcasm in my voice because I can’t hold it in. I don’t want to pick a fight. What I want is for him to take me in his arms as he did before we were married, giving me hungry kisses and filthy promises.

Nero is silent for a long time. “When are you ovulating?”

I blink in surprise. “Why?”

“Get one of those apps women use to track their time of the month. Measure your temperature or whatever it is that doctors recommend. Find out when you’re fertile, and we’ll try.”

He’s saying things that I’ve longed to hear, but he’s already turning away.

“Nero. Look at me.”

He turns to face me, and his brows are drawn together. He’s serious, but not angry. Could this be the moment I’ve been waiting for, when we find our way back to one another?

With my heart pounding in my chest, I ask, “You want to have children with me?”

Nero thinks for a moment, and then nods. “I intended to start a family with you. That’s why I married you.”

Okay, not the romantic answer I was hoping for, but it’s something. “We’ll need to actually have sex if we want children. You’re not going to suggest we use a turkey baster, are you?”

Nero gazes at me for a long time, and then he seems to come to a decision. He steps forward, lowers his head, and presses a kiss to my cheek. “I’ll do what you need me to do. I don’t want to lose you.”

It’s hardly the dirty talk that he once indulged in, but it’s oceans more intimacy than I’ve experienced since our wedding. He doesn’t want to lose me. Hecaresabout keeping me.

“I’ll find out when I’m ovulating, and we’ll get started,” I tell him, starting to feel excited.

He nods and starts to turn away. “I’ll see you when I get home.”

“Don’t—” I nearly say,Don’t stay out too late, but if I make demands, he might grow cold again. How pathetic of me to be afraid of annoying my husband with just a few words. “Don’t work too hard. See you later.”

Meekly, I stand back and watch him go. I’m such a good, obedient wife. Just like he always wanted.

I spend the evening downloading fertility apps and reading the instructions and reviews. At nine p.m., I’m searching for pharmacies that are still open so I can buy a digital thermometer, and I go out and get one. A baby is just what Nero and I need. A project to focus on together so we can get past all our issues.

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