Page 7 of Nobody Wants Me
If Ivan was going to be here, I would not have a lot of time for anything more, as that man demanded a lot of attention.
Putting my tools away, I took a seat at my desk and looked over the plans for the latest piece I had been working on.I know this is fucking pointless, but after seeing Freya’s beauty room, I couldn’t help but think I could build her something even more useful.Looking over the minor details, I closed the book, because that was the kind of shit a loving husband did, not a man who hated the very idea of being married.
Thirty minutes later, Umberto came out, carrying my food.It was rare for him to be the one serving me.
“Your wife is inside, all alone, like always,” Umberto said, taking a seat.
I should have known I wasn’t going to get to eat in peace and quiet, as he brought a plate for himself as well.There was no getting away from this shit.
“Did I say you could stay?”I asked.
Umberto, like Rafael, had become used to my moods.
He just laughed.“Did I even ask?”
This made me laugh.I guess in the scheme of things, Umberto and Rafael were now the closest people I had to a family.A family I paid to do jobs for me.
Sticking my fork into a meatball, I took a bite.They were meaty, savory, and covered in a delicious, spicy gravy.
“What is this?”
“This is my take on Swedish meatballs,” Umberto said.
“It’s good.”
“Yes.Very good.Are you aware that your wife loves meatballs?”he asked.
I looked at him and took a bite.“I don’t give a fuck what she likes.”
Umberto tutted.“That is no way to think or feel about your wife, Victor.”
“My relationship is a contract, a business.I don’t like her.I don’t love her.I never will.There will be no family here.No nothing.If Freya wants to survive, she needs to learn her place, and she certainly shouldn’t expect anything from me.”
Silence met my declaration.I was not going to pretend this was anything more.
We ate our food in silence.I expected Umberto to leave, to give me the peace and quiet I so desperately wanted.Only, he didn’t.He finished his food, and even after he took my plate from me, he stayed silent.
I looked at him and waited.
“You know, for a man who claims not to love his wife, or even care about her, you’re sure making sure to help her feel part of your life.I saw you carrying all that wood.I know you made her more shelves, and that unit right there we both know is for her makeup.It’s not a bad thing to like your wife,” Umberto said.
“Are you done?”
“You might also like to know I have every reason to believe your wife heard every single thing you said,” Umberto said.
This surprised him, as Umberto got to his feet and opened the door to his shed.Sure enough, something had been left outside the door.Umberto handed it to him, and then left without another word.
He didn’t give a shit if Freya heard what he had to say.He was only speaking the truth.Their marriage was a business contract.Dealt with by Ivan Volkov.
He held the quilt in his hand, and at first he refused to open it or even look at it.Women were a pain in the ass.He hated them.They were weak.
And with his anger intact, he opened the quilt to see a beautiful piece.Each panel looked different, and he saw there were shapes in the center, each one ...a tool he used regularly.It was lovely.
He didn’t fucking want it.Even as a part of his brain told him not to, he grabbed one of his cutting tools and tore the blanket to pieces.There was nothing left of it, and once he was done, he made his way into the house and found Freya heading upstairs.Without a word, he tossed the blanket at her, then stormed back out of the house.
He didn’t want anything from her.Nothing sentimental.Not her hugs.He didn’t want anything, because he didn’t want a wife.He wanted to be left the fuck alone.
Why was it so hard for people to understand that?
