Page 75 of Ebbing Tides
His pruned lips twisted with a protest, his eyes darkening with rage. But he was helpless. He couldn't do a damn thing about the control I now held over him; oh, it was satisfying in the cruelest of ways, and for perhaps the very first time in my life, I understood his incessant need to treat me like the lowest scum of the earth.
It was a rush to fight against those who could never ever fight back.
But the only difference was, he deserved it.
I never did.
“She was … a pretty little thing,” he whispered.
Slowly, I turned to face him, only to find his gaze had fallen to stare off toward nothing I could see. Maybe he was looking at her, the woman he had impregnated, the woman who had given birth to me.
I swayed on the spot, and I reached behind me, grabbing for the arms of the chair kept at his bedside. I found it and pulled it closer, allowing my ass to drop into the seat as I brought my hand to lay over my forehead.
“Young,” he muttered, nodding to himself. “Eighteen, maybe nineteen, and so beautiful. She was … oh, she wassobeautiful. Too bad you look nothing like her.”
“Who was she?” I managed to ask.
“My secretary,” he answered without hesitation. “I had just started working at my first law firm. I was a newlywed, married to a woman who had insisted I marry her. It was the times, you see. It was our parents … our religion. A woman couldn't lay with a man if she wasn't wed, and so Margaret demanded we get married.”
Shewanted to marryhim?I furrowed my brow at the thought.Is he honestly blaming this all on his dead wife?
“There was never a spark,” he went on. “People talked about that, aboutlove, and I thought it was all bullshit. A fairy tale. And then Lilly walked through the door—”
“Lilly?”
“The most fitting name for a woman who looked solovely,” he replied, his voice wistful, and my heart stuttered at the softness in his tone.
Had I ever heard him speak of anyone in that way?
And then, just like that, his face crumpled with disgust. “But something you must understand … something youneverseem to understand … is that beautiful women prey upon men. We are weak in their presence, helpless against their beguiling qualities. They hold us by the prick, control us with the sweetness kept between their thighs, and use their womb for blackmail.”
I tipped my head, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “So, wait. What? She …”
“She begged me to fuck her,” he continued, his lips lifting into a smile, as if the memory brought him joy. “And I did. Oh Lord, I felt guilty for it at first, but …” His eyes fluttered closed as he sighed. “Fucking Margaret was like sleeping with a cold, dead fish after fucking Lilly. And suddenly, the faithfulness of a man to his wife lost its meaning. Because why should I sacrifice the joy and pleasure of good and glorious sex for the sanctity of marriage?”
“It's called divorce,” I muttered, stuck somewhere between shock and disgust at the story I was hearing.
“Divorce was unheard of in either of our families,” he explained. “So, I had it all. I came home to Margaret after fucking Lilly. And it was fine—itcouldhave been fine—but then Lilly told me she was pregnant.Pregnant!” His hand lifted, only to drop back down on the blanket, a weak attempt at slapping his leg. “I demanded she get rid of it, to get an abortion, to dosomethingto destroy it, and she demanded I leave my wife. When I told her I couldn't do that, she threatened to ruin my life.”
He hung his head, sighing. “We fought. I beat her. I hadn't wanted to—I never liked to beat a woman, you know that—but I was blind with rage and desperation. All I could think about was getting rid of that fucking baby because I knew … Iknew… it would ruineverything.”
Oh God. I leaned forward, resting my elbows against my knees as I laid my face in my palms, shaking my head.
“She disappeared after that. I thought she was gone for good. Months—months—went by, and I heardnothing.What a relief, I told myself, and I progressed in my career, progressed in my marriage, and everything felt good, as it should be. Until thatbitch came up to me at my place of business and forced me to make a choice.”
I swallowed and asked, “What choice was that?”
“Give her money or take my son.”
“I would've had a better life if—”
He cackled, and I lifted my head at the sound, surprised by the sudden surge of strength. “Oh, Maxwell. She didn'twant you. Sheneverwanted you.”
“You don't know that,” I fired back angrily. “She wanted to marry you, she wanted—”
“She wantedcontrol. She wanted whatever I would give her. Marriage, money—”
“But not yourchild?” I barked with a laugh. “That doesn't make sense. This … none of this makes sense!”
