The One (69 page)

"Look
at me, Vic. Now." The order is unmistakable. Incontrovertible. I wait
until she obeys, then speak again, "No one is to ever touch what's mine.
Do you understand me?" I say in a calm, steady voice, my eyes watching
her, hard. I need to make sure she knows exactly where I stand.

She
actually looks amused as understanding is dawning on her.

I
know I shouldn
’
t
but the truth is, I can
’
t
help myself. I need reassurance, even if she can
’
t give it, and I
’
ll take it any way I can. I can
’
t let her go. Never.

“
I
’
ll never give you a divorce.
”
I state, unable to think of the reality
of her leaving me.

“
Go fuck yourself E,
”
she replies indifferently.

“
Baby, I
’
d rather fuck you,
”
is my own calm reply as I come and press
myself against her back, holding her waist, while my nose inhales her hair
mist, my lips nibble on her earlobe, as I grasp her wrist, applying pressure to
it.

Within
seconds, she responds pressing herself back against me. Her body seeking mine,
needing mine.

She
is mine. Still.

I
fuck her from behind, slowly at first, and then hard, when she begs me to.

Once
we
‘
re
done, I carry her to our bed, and as she is watching me, her eyes, unwavering,
I say,

“
Take your trip, be on your own for a
while, whatever you need
…
It
’
s
been a month since Luca died. It
’
s
normal, you need some time
…”
I exhale, opening the sheets, positioning her body in the bed, I add steadily,
“
But I won
’
t accept our marriage is over, I never
will. Not like this, not after what we
’
ve been through
…
I
’
ll give you the space you want for now.
Just know, I
’
ll
be here waiting, until you come home
…
and you will be coming home
…”

I
cover her and I give her a light kiss, coaxing her into a deeper one, until she
is moaning in my mouth, and her hands are pulling me tight, and I can feel her
legs parting under me, under the sheets, ready to receive me again.

Then
I stop, reassured she still wants and needs me. I kiss her forehead, and wish
her good night, before heading downstairs.

Little
did I know, these would be the last words I
’
d say to my wife.

She
would leave the next day, and stay gone for over five years.

((~~!~~))

“
I
’
m sorry,
”
I said, my voice broken, looking straight
at her. She
’
s
unmoving, in our bedroom, sitting on the side of our bed. I am on my knees, holding
hers, looking up to her face, trying to see something, anything, behind her
green eyes, which are vacant.

We
just had the worst argument we
’
ve
ever had in our 6 years relationship. I lost my temper. I didn
’
t hit her, never; but my tongue slipped
and I just said out loud what I know she has been thinking and feeling for the
past 10 days now, since our son was declared dead.

I
told her, she is indeed responsible for our baby
’
s death. I know she isn
’
t. Well, I hope she isn
’
t since according to the coroner, the
cause of death is natural; but Luca died under her care, in her arms for God
’
s sake! I am entitled to be angry with
her. So far, my anger hasn
’
t
exploded because I
’
ve
seen her being on the brink of a mental collapse with the enquiry, the funeral
and all, and it
’
s
scaring me to death, but tonight, when she announced she wants to go away in a
few days, my anger took over. I simply couldn
’
t rein it in, and I accused her of not
only killing our son, but also being an uncaring bitch, leaving me alone to deal
with the aftermath while she selfishly takes off.

Completely
unfair and untrue, but I am pretty damn close to a nervous breakdown of my own
too; even though, no one seems to notice.

Some
things should never be said out loud.

Since
the words passed my lips, I have watched her retreat. She sat on the side of
our bed, as if I had physically struck her, and hasn
’
t moved since. I only know she is still
breathing because I am close enough to feel the air being exhaled, but she
shows no sign of life, her body is rigid, she hasn
’
t said a word, her eyes are fixed on some
invisible point, her hands are cold, so cold it feels like life itself has left
her. I
’
ve
tried talking, cajoling, even shaking her to no avail.

I
am exhausted, and as I am on my knees looking at her, I finally rest my head on
her lap, and I start to cry, uncontrollably, inconsolably.

These
are my first tears since the night my son died. His burial was 4 days ago. All
our guests have left and we have been alone for the past two days. I simply can
’
t hold it in anymore.

I
don
’
t
know for how long we stayed there, I
’
m no longer crying, I
’
m out of tears. I feel the dampness
against my cheek, on her skirt, and I realize, she is caressing my hair, as if
to appease me.

I
look up, and our eyes meet, she is holding my gaze.

She
stares at me intensely, her eyes are glowing for the first since I can
’
t remember, and as she is unbuttoning her
black blouse, she says in a hollow voice,
“
Fuck me. E.
”

I
am shocked, and must be wide-eyed because she repeats,
“
Please Ethan. Fuck me
…
Bring me back
…
I...-
”
her voice cracks, as she is now
unclasping her black bra and her eyes never leave mine.

I
understand what she wants, I know why she wants it, but I
’
m not sure I can. I
’
m not sure it will be enough to bring her
back. To life.

I
’
m not sure anything will be enough to
bring her back.    

((~~!~~))

For nearly 3 weeks, we barely speak to
each other.

After
that argument in which I voiced my anger and accused her of the unthinkable, of
being responsible for our son
’
s
death, Luca
’
s
name hasn
’
t
been uttered once between us.

I
know she blames herself, she admitted it that very night and I made her promise
never to voice out loud these words again, but truth be told, it wasn
’
t a total slip of the tongue when I
accused her of killing him.

I
don
’
t
know with exactitude what happened that night. I have her account and Marina
’
s account of the events, but I wasn
’
t there, so I am angry, at her, but also
with myself.

At
the core, I don
’
t
believe she would ever hurt him, but I
’
m starting to feel rage as days go by and
I realize I no longer have a child and I may not have a wife either as Vic is
slipping away to a place I can
’
t
reach her.

The
coroner
’
s
report was expedited because of who I am and the fact that I did not want,
under any circumstances, any details of my son
’
s death reach the public. I just wanted to
bury my Luca in peace.

When
the report stated the cause of death was natural causes, albeit undetermined, I
was reassured in my conviction that my wife couldn
’
t have hurt our child. I thought she would
be too, but instead she seemed to slip further away into her own hell, and I
don
’
t
know what to do to help her, and it enrages me even more.

I
know she can
’
t
have killed our son because I know my wife. Vic would have died for Luca. She
almost did. It is impossible to contemplate she would hurt him. I know what she
said, but I think she has a distorted view of the event because of the shock of
finding our son dead; anything else is simply egregious.

I
don
’
t
know what happened in the room that night, but I know when Marina rang me as I
was driving back to the country house, she told me Vic was in some sort of
shock and I saw it for myself when I arrived, when I made the call to the
police, when they come and question her. She is monosyllabic, too calm, too
cold, too collected, as if she is not really in the room with us, with me; as
if she
’
s
already in this dark place, I can
’
t
get her out of.

I
think the guilt, justified or not is too much to handle, so her brain made her
retreat. She is totally numb, to anything and anyone.

Almost.

We
don
’
t
talk, but we fuck or make love, depending on how it happens or how you want to
call it. We just do it. A lot.

There
is a desperation attached to the act. It
’
s not about pleasure, it
’
s about somehow connecting back to life,
eradicate the numbness that has blanketed us, especially her. She has
completely retreated within herself.

The
day after the burial, she hands me a note demanding everyone leaves. Deric and
Kevin left together both going to Paris. Lily was the last to do so, two days
later, but she was deeply worried and actually mentioned, maybe
anti-depressants were to be considered if Vic remained numb.