Chapter 52
Nadine:
The next morning when I woke up, Enzo was snoring lightly beside me. We had cuddled in our sleep and it was genuinely one of the best sexual experiences I had ever had in my life. As we had sex, I felt a sense of fulfillment wash over me, a feeling of peace, and the guilt I had once felt was no longer there. But by morning when I woke up, the guilt was there, weighing heavy on my heart.
“Where are you going?” I heard Enzo’s sleepy voice ask as I put on my clothes.
“Home, of course,” I said. “This isn’t my house, you know.”
He must have heard the tension in my voice because then, he stood behind me and wrapped his hands around my waist. He buried his head into my neck snugly, swaying me from side to side. I wanted to relax, be comfortable in his arms, live the best of my life with him, but the guilt burned inside me like an unquenchable flame. I struggled out of his hold.
“I’m sorry, Enzo,” I said, “but I gotta go.”
“Back to Clayton?” He said angrily. “Back to that prison where you’re treated as if you’re nothing more than an animal? Please, Nadine, explain to me why?”
“Whether or not I like it there, it’s still my home,” I said, turning to face him for the first time. “And he’s still my husband.”
“Mmm, I see,” he said. He was clearly becoming more incensed. I understood his reason, but my guilt was becoming too heavy for me to bear, so I grabbed my purse and started walking out.
“I’ll call you when I get home,” I said to him and his face took on a gloomy demeanor. There was something incredibly sad about his eyes that made me want to pull off my clothes again, jump into bed and have him cuddle me to sleep, but I turned and continued walking out the door.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .
“Wait,” Enzosaid, grabbing me by the wrist just as I was about to walk out of the door.
“What, Enzo?” I said. I had been trying not to meet his eyes, but he spun me around and I had no other option but to face him, look him in his bright blue eyes.
“Are you upset because we had sex, is that it?” He said, cupping my face. “Look, Nadine, I wasn’t joking, neither was I telling a lie when I said I love you. I meant it, and I still mean it, with every bone that’s in my body. And I know you love me too. Look, I know you feel a bit of constraint because you’re married, but if you’re not happy then what’s the point?”
There was a brief silence as both of us stared at each other, after which I said, “I still have to go, Enzo.”
“Fine. Do what you will,” he said, letting go of my hands. I left him in the hotel and took a ride back home.
Clayton:
After Nadine stormed out, I sat on the bed in her room and my mind roved. Perhaps I shouldn’t have forced my way with her, perhaps I should have heard her out, but I needed to enforce discipline and exert my authority. She was still my wife, and I, her husband. I needed to make things clear with her. I knew that as she left the house, she had gone off to see Enzo again, and the thought of this made me boil. I lay down on her bed, awake, my eyes on the ceiling and on the rotating fan. Natasha came in moments later.
“What are you doing here, baby?” She said as she walked in. “I’ve looked for you all over the house.”
“That bitch is cheating on me with my brother,” I said.
“And so what, Clayton?” Natasha said. “Isn’t it better now that she has found someone she can finally leave us alone?”
“It doesn’t work like that, Natasha,” I told her, an edge to my voice.
“Ohh, don’t tell me that you’re angry, Clayton,” she said. “I’m right here. I’ve been here with you for years, a far longer time than any other person, so don’t give me that bullshit.”
“She’s my wife, Natasha,” I said. “I married her. She doesn’t get to cheat on me.”
Natasha gave a short ugly laugh.
“While you fuck me every night just next to her room?” She said, “You’re going to act righteous now?”
“Doesn’t matter what I do,” I said.
“You’re just a fucking hypocrite,” Natasha said before standing up to leave.
I slept in Nadine’s bed that night. The next morning, when I awoke, she was still not back. I got up, went to my room and found Natasha snoring gently on the bed. Just when I got out of the room, I saw Nadine. She looked scared, as if she knew that I was furious.
“Where did you go last night, Nadine?” I said, tuning my voice to sound low and threatening.
“N-nowhere,” she said and tried to scurry off to her room. I grabbed her by the arms. We were standing just at the top of the stairs.
“Bitch, answer me, before I hit you,” I yelled. “I said where were you?”
Natasha came out of our room.
“Clayton, leave that girl alone,” she said. “Look how scared she looks. Leave her and let her be. All you do is give her shit.”
“Stay out of this, Natasha,” I said without turning my head.
“Ohh, please, Clayton,” she said again. “You’re hurting her. Leave her the fuck alone.”
“I’m gonna ask you this for the last time, Nadine,” I said. “Where the fuck were you?”
She still did not answer. I held her more firmly by the upper arm and repeated the question, this time shaking her vigorously; she still kept mute. In my anger, I pushed her down the flight of stairs.
Natasha let out a scream.
“You killed her, you fucking idiot!”