Page 37 of Broken Mercy
I go back outside for my bag. I hadn’t been sure what I planned on doing. The master suite is inviting with a kingsize bed, chairs near the fireplace, a host of female grooming objects scattered on the vanity. She’s been here for at least a night or two, which means this place came together in a hurry. I put my duffel on the bed and hear her on the stairs before she appears in the doorway.
“Are you hungry? I can cook.”
“You don’t have to.”
“It’s fine. I don’t have anything else to do.” Some hair spills in her face and I want to push it away. Why do I want to touch her? Why am I tempted to drag her into this bed? There’s nothing stopping me, nobody around to interrupt. We’re husband and wife alone in our house.
“Alright, I can eat.”
She nods past me. “Your side is the left.”
“We’re sharing a bed?”
Her amused shrug pisses me off. “We’re married, right? Or maybe you forgot.”
The first hint that something might be bothering her. She disappears back downstairs and I give her a few minutes while I explore what she’s done with the place. It’s not all furnished—she clearly focused on the main rooms—but what she’s done so far is tasteful and understated. There’s a warmth to it though. She favors bold colors and bright lines. There’s none of that terrible Millennial beige and earthy brown. Talin glitters, she glows. I like that a lot about her. There’s no hiding, even if she wants to.
She serves pasta at the main table and puts a glass of bourbon at my elbow. I drink it, wondering if there's some ulterior motive to the alcohol, but the food’s incredible. Silky sauce and bronze-cut noodles. Tallie picks and doesn’t eat much, mostly watching me as I dig into the first decent meal I’ve had since we got married.
“How long do I have to wait before you ask?” I say and take a long sip of my drink. It’s smoky and smooth. I swear, this girl knows instinctively what I like, which is dangerous.
“Ask what?”
“We don’t have to play the game.”
“There are a bunch of questions I should ask you. Like for example, where have you been the last three days?”
“My apartment.”
Her lips tug downwards, but she must’ve known I had my own place. “Or maybe I should ask why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“Personal reasons.”
Her fingers grip a fork as she leans closer. The knuckles turn white. “What were you doing on the night we got married, Brenden?”
“There it is,” I say gently, drinking more, wishing we didn’t have to do this. Dinner was nice to this point.
It felt almost normal, eating in total silence with a beautiful woman who clearly hates me.
“You’re up to something. I want to know what.”
“No, you really don’t.”
“Stop treating me like an idiot. I keep catching you in these awkward situations, snooping around like you’re searching for something. What’s your game?”
She’s right about that and it deeply bothers me. I try not to glance at her mouth or down to the low-cut top she’s wearing. I like when she challenges me, but it also pisses me off.
I’m not used to people finding me in compromising positions.
“Thank you for a lovely meal.” I push my chair back and stand.
“No, don’t you walk away from me.”
“Sorry but that’s exactly what I’m doing.” I tilt my drink back and swallow it down. The burn’s nice and steady in my gut.
This is what I do. When life gets hard, I disappear. Tallie thinks she wants to know what I’ve been up to, but she really, really doesn’t. It’s better for everyone if I keep my distance and don’t drag her down into the hell I’m building for myself.
The stakes are too damn high.
