Page 58 of Of Murder and Matrimony

So I sat there with her until dinner time, fascinated by how her mind worked. She was efficient, more intelligent than any other person I’d known. She explained how different tools were used and how she’d manage patients. Most of it was beyond my understanding, but that didn’t stop her.

Olesya’s enthusiasm continued through dinner, drinks, dessert, and even until I led her upstairs to our room. She showered and came to bed with damp hair, nestling beside me. I wrapped my arm around her waist and tugged her back to my chest, flinging one of my thick thighs over her legs and pinning her in place where she belonged. Next to me.

Sometime later, I woke to find Olesya’s spot empty. I ran my palm down the sheets, noting they were still warm. The bathroom door was open, and the light was off, so she wasn’t there. She must have just left. I kicked the covers off my body and climbed out of bed, pulling on a pair of black silk pajama pants.

The house was quiet as I wandered down the hall, checking Olesya’s old room and heading downstairs when I didn’t find her. I saw the dim light coming from the kitchen and leaned against the wall when I found her bent over, searching for something in the refrigerator. Her midnight snack habit amused me.

I watched as my wife withdrew a plate with a slice of leftover cake, licking her lips as she placed it on the counter. She still hadn’t noticed me standing in the shadows when she plucked a fork from its drawer and unwrapped the sweet. Her simple sleeveless white cotton nightgown shifted with every movement, and I could make out her nipples through the thin fabric.

“Were you planning to save some for me?” I asked as she took the first bite of the chocolate confection.

Olesya gasped, and the bite of cake fell back onto the plate. She glared at me. “What the hell are you doing, spying on me?”

“Can’t a man share a midnight snack with his wife?” I asked innocently as I approached, taking her fork and spearing the forgotten cake.

Her eyes widened when I ate the bite she’d wanted. “Why are you acting so weird?”

“How do you mean?” I asked, cutting another bite and holding it out.

Olesya wrapped her lips around the fork, cleanly taking the offered morsel. I watched her jaw work as she chewed, her throat bobbing when she swallowed. “You’re being nice.”

“I’m treating you how I should have treated you from the beginning,” I explained, setting the fork down. “It’s what you deserve, and I failed you. I was stressed and angry and took it out on you, which was wrong. I won’t let that happen again. You aren’t responsible for what happened between your family and mine.”

“It’s not just that.” Olesya wrapped her arms around her body protectively and stared down at the cake. “You’ve never really liked me. Even when I thought I loved you. When I gave myself to you.”

Her words stung, and I deserved to feel that pain, even if she was wrong. I pulled out a kitchen stool and patted the round surface. “Sit. Let me try to explain.”

“I don’t think I want to hear it,” she said sullenly.

“I promise you do,” I answered, taking another stool and sitting so I faced her. “We were young, and I was head over heels for you, Olesya.”

She looked up at me. “You had a funny way of showing it, then.”

“I pushed my desires down. I was older than you, and it was wrong to pursue you, knowing you were being forced into the relationship.” I swallowed hard. “When you turned eighteen and started pursuing me, it was the best and worst thing that could have happened to me. I wanted you so badly, but I knew you dreamed of becoming a doctor.”

Olesya shook her head. “I don’t see why that mattered.”

“You would never have been allowed to pursue your dreams if you’d married me back then.”

“I could have gone to college,” she protested.

“Do you think your father or mine would have let you spend a decade in school?” I asked, tilting her chin up. “You would have been relegated to the duties of a mafia wife immediately. Perhaps they would have let you complete a four-year degree online, but medical school would have been out of the question.”

“If you knew that, why did you sleep with me?” The hurt in her words was like a dagger to my heart.

“Because I was weak, and I loved you,” I admitted. I’d never told her the truth about that night. “You showed up in my room that night, and I wasn’t ready for it. I couldn’t deny you—couldn’t deny myself. At first, I thought maybe we could find a way, but the next morning I found out one of the guards saw you sneaking into my room.”

Olesya’s eyes widened.

“He told my father, who, of course, wanted us to get married immediately. Your dreams would have been crushed before you’d even left home. I couldn’t allow our families to destroy you like that, couldn’t watch as everything you wanted fell through your fingers. So I made a brash decision. I told my father I could never marry you, that we were totally incompatible.”

“And that worked?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“No.” I drummed my fingers on the counter. “He said it didn’t matter—wouldn’t even listen to my fabricated objections. That’s why I had to take it a step further.”

“You tried to break my heart,” Olesya whispered. The pain in her voice sounded fresh, like the day I'd rejected her so many years prior.

I nodded. “Yes. I knew if I hurt you enough, you’d run away. And it worked. You were gone before the end of the week. My father was pissed, but there wasn’t much he could do. He figured I’d eventually come around. But then you disappeared.”

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