Page 34 of Corruption
“That’s a question,” he retorted.
“It’s not about our current situation,” I countered.
A faint smile crept across his lips, and it was clear he preferred my fiery curiosity over robotic compliance.
“So?” I pressed, refusing to let it go.
“That’s what happens when you actually feed a kid food,” he finally replied.
“Wait, what?” I stammered, caught off guard.
He didn’t elaborate further but led me downstairs. We entered the kitchen, where he seated me on a stool and presented me with food. It was a surprising role reversal as he fed me this time. Despite the change, hunger overcame any protest. I grabbed the fork and devoured every morsel of the delicious meal, savoring the experience of not having to cook for once. When I finished, I leaned back, releasing a contented sigh. Then, I noticed Jared standing there, holding a cup of coffee and gazing at me with an enigmatic expression.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
He appeared almost bewildered, or maybe a bit lost. It was puzzling considering the chaos he had recently unleashed into my life, all while fucking me.
“Never once in all those years we didn’t see each other, did I cross your mind, right?” he asked, his voice tinged with longing, as if he wished for me to remember him.
“Of course not,” I replied, a hint of indifference in my tone.
“What about the years we did see each other? Every day when you came to taunt me. What happened when you went home? Was the bullying like a daily chore, akin to going to school, and you put it away when you weren’t there?” he inquired, his tone growing more contemplative.
“Are you asking if I thought about you like some annoying homework I had to get through?” I retorted with a touch of sarcasm.
He chuckled softly, surprising me by genuinely laughing at my remark. It was a stark contrast to the moments when I had made a joke, fearing his punishments might drive me to madness.
“Not like homework, no. Not something that needed to be solved. Just something that got stuck, like a song,” he explained, his words laced with a sense of nostalgia. “A song you can’t get out of your head, no matter how hard you try to distract yourself.”
As Jared articulated his thoughts, a sense of unease began to gnaw at me, making me fidget in my chair. I tapped a finger against the table’s surface, my gaze briefly drifting to where my wedding ring would usually be. I had left it at home, not wanting it to be used against me once more. Oddly, as I looked at the empty spot, I felt strangely at peace, as if I were not missing anything. Yet, when my attention returned to Jared, a sudden jolt pierced through me, a zap to the heart, much like the one I’d felt whenever my mother had warned me not to think about him, not to even glance in his direction. He was beneath me, she had stated, forcing me to listen.
“Do... Do you remember the first time we met?” I ventured.
Jared appeared puzzled. “It was at school, the first day.”
He didn’t remember, I thought. He had no recollection of our actual first encounter. To save face and keep him from thinking he had ever mattered to me, I nodded.
“I suppose so. I can’t really recall. That’s how little I paid attention.”
“And yet, you hunted me down like an animal,” he growled.
“You were that easy,” I informed him. “I noticed quickly. One day, I decided to see just how easy.”
“No, you tripped me on the first day of school.”
“Did I? I don’t remember.”
Liar, a voice inside me whispered.
“Of course not. Because no one else but Alison matters to Alison,” he retorted bitterly.
I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m perfection.”
“You’re the devil’s wife.”
“Amusing. I don’t recall marrying you,” I countered. Jared’s eyes widened for a moment, but he eventually cracked a smile as if he appreciated my jest. Out of habit, I responded with a smile of my own, but we both caught ourselves sharing in the momentary humor and quickly averted our eyes.
“Why did you ask me if I ever thought about you?” I asked.
