Page 112 of A Dash of You

“Hello. Audrey. It’s good to see you, too. And no, that won’t be necessary, as it seems I was brought here against my will. I have no things.”

We share a look of apprehension before she runs off to attend to something probably ridiculous, such as pairing my husband's socks.

“Why don’t you freshen up, my wife, and we’ll have a late dinner together.” He keeps sayingwifewith a ridiculous undertone of snark.

I continue staring ahead, trying to avoid looking at his face as much as possible. I thought I hated him before. This is a whole new level of loathing now.

“You never eat with me,” I state, because it was true. I hoped our interactions would remain as sporadic as before. But I suppose he’s punishing me.

“What kind of husband would that make me if I don’t dine with my wife?”

A tolerable one.

“I can’t wait.” I throw a sarcastic snarl his way and attempt to step forward toward my room, but he grabs my chin with a harsh squeeze.

“You wipe that sarcasm from your mouth and show your husband respect. Trust me, it’ll make things a lot easier for you.”

He steps closer, my chin still pained in his grip. “Things are going to be different around here. You and me. Get used to it.” He forces an aggressive kiss on me before finally letting go. “You taste like a whore.”

Die. You bastard.

Upstairs, there’s already a dress laid out for me. But I’m unable to find the will to change. I want to scream. Cry. Smash something. The anger boiling inside is enough to do something I believe I wouldn’t regret. Not at this point. I’m too far gone—too furious. Thirsty for revenge. The terrified feeling I am harvesting turns into a crazy rage. And I am close to ending my husband’s life.

What can I do? Poison. Knife to the throat. Am I even capable of taking another life?

Then, when all my senses finally crack, I let out a hysterical laugh.

Audrey walks in but stops abruptly by the doorway, watching me with a questionable look. Tears slip out and my jest of laughter slowly turns into a painful cry and then a sob.

I’m losing it. I’m losing my sanity bit by bit.

“Um. Miss Sora. Are you all right?”

I catch my breath in between the sobbing. “Audrey… with all due respect, does it look like I’m all right?” I fall to my knees with palms on the floor, and I hunch over, letting my tears land on the hardwood beneath me.

The housekeeper crouches down beside me and places a hand on my back.

“I’m sorry.” I sniff. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just…”

“I know. It’s all right. Can I get you tea?”

I glance over at her—the kindness in her eyes is the only true one here. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

She smiles, but it’s not one that reaches her eyes. She rises, leaving me to weep like a pathetic soul on the floor.

Thirty-Five

“You’re not eating.”

Like I could.

I push the potatoes and carrots around on my plate before setting down my fork. “I’m not hungry.”

At the far end of the table, Jason eyes me with carefulness. “You know. If you just accept it, you may actually be happy here,wife.” He doesn’t take his eyes off mine as he drinks his wine.

I do love seeing the faint bruise forming on his jaw. “Happy being a prisoner? And stop saying wife like that.” I grind my teeth, straightening my posture. “In fact, stop calling me your wife at all.”

He smiles, which is not how I thought he’d react. “It doesn’t have to be like this. It can go back to the way it was before. You were happy then.”

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