Three Loving Words (7 page)

“I never have nor will I ever hit a girl … not even you.”

He left me there with my mouth agape.  If there was one thing I learned about Enzo, he seemed to keep his word, and that had been another silent promise to me.

*****

The first time we had to go to a family function together as a “happy couple” was shortly after that shocking incident.  That entire event had rattled me for the next week.  I couldn’t merge the two sides of Enzo I had seen.  I didn’t know what it was about him that had me running for the hills and feeling a tiny bit of compassion if and when he allowed a bit of vulnerability to pass through his eyes.  He was a cruel human being, one who had done unspeakable things to me against my wishes, one who had made my fragile confidence constantly waver, yet there were moments when I actually didn’t fear him.  There were moments when I could imagine meeting him in a different universe and finding him charming.  According to the dozens of women who screamed his name on a weekly basis, he had to have some endearing qualities.  I was just never lucky enough to have them directed at me.

It was while I was in this confused state that Enzo announced we were going to a charity event that his family was hosting.  Of course, they went to charity events. I rolled my eyes.  People with money and nothing to do seemed to always hit up charity events, not that there was anything wrong with them, but they were reserved for the upper-class members of society.  And I was anything but upper class.

“I’m not going,” I told him.

“It wasn’t a question.”

“Yeah, well, it should have been, and my answer is no.”

“I think you’re forgetting, little girl, that I call the shots and if I say we’re going to a charity event, then we’re going.  End of story.”

“You’ll just wish I wasn’t there!” I screamed at his retreating back.  He halted in his tracks, turning right around with a venom in his eyes scarier than any poisonous snake I had ever heard of.

“You’re going to buy a nice, fancy dress. You’re going to get your hair and makeup done if you don’t know how to do it on your own.  You’re going to dote on me and act every bit the loving wife you should be.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You really want to challenge me?”  I gulped, the air lodging in my throat and preventing me from speaking.  His tone had been menacing and his posture promised retribution; I was scared out of my mind, yet I still wanted to stand up for myself.  But he was right.  I wasn’t sure what he’d do, but I didn’t want to challenge him.  It was ironic considering he had promised never to touch and never to hit me, so what could he really do?  It was not as if my life was a peach and I was worried he’d take it away from me.  I was already miserable. How much worse could it get?

One look into his eyes told me that he’d somehow manage to make it much worse; maybe not physically or even to the obvious eye, but he’d make things even worse.

“And you?” I half-whispered my only remaining challenger.

“And me what?”

“Are you going to be every bit the loving husband you should be?”

I saw his eyes scan mine, jumping from one to the other as he narrowed his own.  I was being defiant the only way I could, yet my question was actually sincere.  If he treated me with fake love, sure, it would be make-believe, but for one night, I would get to live in a fantasy world, one where I married the love of my life and all my childhood dreams came true.

“Yeah, whatever.” He said it so nonchalantly that I didn’t believe him, but my dumb, romantic heart didn’t care.  I was going to get some sort of love, and I was going to take it however it came. A backward Cinderella story in the making.

“And make sure you wear your wedding ring,” he added before he walked away.  “Whenever we go to these things, always wear it.”

“Only on these occasions?”  I regretted the words the minute they hit my lips, but with everything Enzo complained about, I couldn’t fathom that he hadn’t laid into me for not wearing it before.

“I never thought much about rings.” He shrugged.  “You could take them off as easily as you put them on.  But for pretenses, wear it.  I will, too.”

He was a puzzle.  The things that bothered him, the things that didn’t … he was an enigma, but if that was one less fight to have with him, I was thankful.  Who was I to question small favors?

Enzo

My dad had made it very clear.  I had to appear happy; I had to put on a front that all was well in the world between Paige and myself.  I was starting to get tired of these games he was playing with my life, but I didn’t really have a choice.

The evening had started poorly.  I knocked on Paige’s door to let her know we were leaving.

“I’m giving you five more minutes before I open the door and drag you out.”  One thing I learned thanks to my mom was that women took forever to get ready, and no amount of threatening could make them hurry up.  I needed her to look good so I wasn’t barging in unless there was an emergency.

Her attitude lately had been unnerving.  She had often been smiling and humming softly when she didn’t think I was around.  I noticed, though, and it pissed me off.  I wanted to know what in the hell had put her in such a good mood.  Part of me was upset that she was in a good mood in the first place.  What right did she have to be happy?  She should be miserable every day of her life.  Another part of me liked to listen to her sing under her breath, yet I hated myself for liking it.  And a final part of me wasn’t too keen on the fact that some outside influence had made her so carefree.  It was my right and my right alone to do that to her.

I shouldn’t have been surprised by her response to my demand given her demeanor of late, but when I heard her sing out, “Coming,” like I had been some date waiting to take her out, I could feel my jaw hang slightly open.  It fell to the floor the minute she opened the door.

I had seen plenty of beautiful women dressed to the nines in expensive dresses with professional hair and makeup.  I had been with most of those women and always appreciated the arm candy purpose they served as well as the bedroom skills they always seemed to possess.  Nothing, none of those women from my past, could have prepared me for the sight before me.  The zipper at the front of my pants was straining, my arousal was probably evident in space, but Paige didn’t seem to notice.  Her bright eyes shined with an enthusiasm that I had never seen on her before.  It made the deep blue hue shimmer.  She had light makeup on, but more than I had ever seen on her since the wedding and it enhanced her very delicate features.  Her hair fell in ringlets around her shoulders, with a few wisps falling perfectly on her breasts, drawing attention to an area I shouldn’t want my eyes to travel to.  And the dress was a black strapless gown that had some kind of sheer gauze material that bunched at random intervals along her bodice. The bottom flared out a bit with strips of that same gauzy material hanging down to form some kind of train.

It wasn’t designer, and from the conversation I overheard her having with someone, it was a steal; something she had been proud of from the squealing noises she had made when she had told the person on the phone about it.  I had never known a girl who didn’t brag about the amount she spent rather than the amount she didn’t spend.  I wasn’t sure at the time whether I should be impressed or concerned.  The same still stood true.

If a man could describe the dress you were wearing in the amount of detail I just did, it was because he scanned the hell out of it.  There were only two reasons for that – he was either gay and was admiring it or he was envisioning every inch of you under it.  For me, it was the latter.  The way it hugged her every curve and cinched her in places my hands itched to touch had me groaning.

She had done me proud, but a very tiny caveman part of my brain hated that I wasn’t going to be the only guy ogling her.  I clenched my hands into fists to prevent myself from slamming the wall by the door.  I had no reason to feel that way.  No reason!  I hated Paige. I hated the way she looked, how enticing she was, how badly I wanted to taste her, how sweet she seemed, how she made me feel like such a bastard, how feisty her personality was, how she made me marry her, and how she was responsible for all this.  I didn’t give a damn if others found her attractive.  Let them!  I didn’t fucking care!  Yet I did.  Because you have to play the role of husband, I reasoned.

“If you embarrass me, I’ll make you pay,” I gritted through my teeth.

She narrowed her eyes at me for a fraction of a second before she visibly shook her head and plastered a smile back on her face.  “Don’t worry, Enzo.  Tonight will be perfect.”  The way she said it with a dreamy smile on her face made me actually believe it as well.  The next thing I knew, I was smiling too.

Paige

As we left the house, Enzo was finally in a good mood.  He had been in a foul mood since … well, forever, but more so over the past week.  He hadn’t said a word to me on the way to the charity event, which was held at some museum.  We rode in a Town Car and I was pretty giddy for that.  It had been my first time being “chauffeured.”   I knew it was all a ruse, but I was going to pretend it wasn’t until I absolutely had to face reality.

I felt like a princess.  When Tami saw me trying to find a dress online for under one hundred dollars, she tsked and said, “Oh darlin’, you ain’t gonna find nothing good on the web.  I’ll take ya to my favorite shops tomorrow and we’ll get ya sumthing good.”

I loved her accent.  If I was feeling bad, I just had to go talk to her and she cheered me right up.  And she was true to her word.  She took me to some seedy looking shops in a part of town I probably didn’t want to be in, but once inside, I was awed.  They had dresses that rivaled any runway and all at a fraction of the cost.  When I put on a black gown with ruffled chiffon at the second stop, I knew I had found the one.

The way Enzo looked at me when he first saw me; I knew I had chosen right.  I was going to be the perfect wife, if only for a night.  When we arrived at the museum, there was someone waiting to open the car door for me.  If Cinderella had been real, she would have been me minus the Prince Charming and add in Prince Asshole.  When the guy held my hand to help me out, I probably gripped his hand too tightly, nervous for the evening.  He didn’t seem to mind, but that was probably because it was his job. He smiled jovially at me and gave me a wink before his eyes took in my dress.

Enzo’s short-lived smile fell off his face immediately.  He pulled my hand out of the guy’s so forcefully, I was sure I would have stumbled back if Enzo hadn’t put his arm around my waist.  “Flirting with your husband next to you?” he asked, his tone one of rage.

“He was helping me out.”

“He was eye fucking you,” Enzo spoke through his teeth.

“He was not,” I retorted, not liking that he was ruining my perfectly fake evening.

Enzo turned me to face him, his eyes shining brightly with irritation.  “You are my wife, Paige.  Do you understand?  I will not have you making me look like a fool.  You will only have eyes for me and act as if I am the Earth, moon, and sun all combined into one.  Do you get that?”  When I didn’t respond, he moved his face closer to mine.  To an outsider, it probably looked like he was leaning in for a kiss, teasing me first while looking into my eyes.  “I asked you a question and you will answer me.  Do you fucking understand, Paige?”

He was chipping away at the fantasy walls and I was painfully aware of how close the tears were to the surface of my eyes.  I pushed them back and put the smile back on my face.  He had already ruined too much in my life. He wasn’t going to ruin this, too.  “I get it, Enzo. Tonight, I love you,” I mocked, the huge smile never leaving my face.

“Yeah, well, I still hate you.”

“Good, now let’s go enjoy our evening, husband.”  I put my arm through his and he led me inside.

It had been one of the best evenings of my life.  Enzo had no choice but to act the part of a happy husband.  He would put his hand on the small of my back when he led me places, and his touch caused a flurry of conflicting emotions to run through me.  He brought me champagne and held out my chair; he did everything I imagined a husband would do.  I, in turn, did the same.  I laughed at his stupid jokes, batted my eyelashes at him, and I complimented him when people were listening.  He even leaned down to whisper in my ear once.  His breath tickled my neck as he said, “Keep up the good work.”  It wasn’t romantic; it wasn’t even what I wanted to hear, but I didn’t let that get to me.

It was only after the evening had concluded and we were back home that things returned to normal.  I had just stepped through the door and pulled off my heels when Enzo turned to face me, his tie loose around his neck, his hair disheveled from the night, and a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks from the alcohol.  He looked every bit the man I had hoped he would be – gorgeous, vulnerable, and mine.  And then he opened his mouth. “My parents were impressed with our little pretense.”

And just like that, the clock struck midnight and the ruse was over.

Please don’t remind me it’s fake, I pleaded internally.

“They even asked when we’ll have kids.” He laughed, and I cringed.  His eyes narrowed at my reaction, and his voice turned hard.  “I told them it would be a cold day in hell before I ever touched you, so no grandkids for them.”  His words made me flinch.  Why did he have to be so cruel?  My eyes glistened with unshed tears, and although I didn’t want him to see that, I was pretty sure the light streaming in from the window only accentuated it.  “You did good today, little girl.” He changed the subject.  “We’ll have plenty more of these events, so make sure to continue on this path.”

I nodded, not knowing what else to do.

“Good, good,” he mused, more to himself than to me.  “We’ll have to get together with our families as well, but we won’t have to pretend at those soirees.” I nodded once again, the realization that tonight wasn’t genuine making its way to the forefront of my mind.  The bite of the pain was so overwhelming that I had to stop myself from doubling over in front of Enzo.  I would never get my happily ever after.  I would never get to live my one dream.  “Well, I had fun tonight,” Enzo added, breaking through my thoughts.  He had fun?  Yeah, well, so did I … until he destroyed everything once again.  I nodded one last time, not able to open my mouth for fear that a sob would escape.

His eyes softened, and I wasn’t sure why or how to even take that.  He looked at me for a beat longer before he whispered, “Good night, Paige,” and headed upstairs.  I waited until I heard his door close before I made my way to my room and collapsed on the bed.  I didn’t bother taking off my dress before curling up into a ball and allowing the tears to flow.  I had cried all my life, disappointment following me wherever I went, but I seemed to be sobbing more and more now than I ever had before.

Enzo had been right, though; we had plenty of events like that to attend over the time we’d be together, and they were always the same. He’d be the best husband I could ask for, and I played the part of the best wife in the world.  I would live in a bubble of happiness for a few hours followed by a crying jag.  And he was right about the family events.  They were far and few between and mostly, I just hung out with his parents or he supposedly visited his, but when that happened, we stayed on opposite sides of the room, pretending the other didn’t exist.  That had become my life.  I went to bed plenty of nights and wished for my old life back.  Being second to Nora’s spotlight was better than being first in the devil’s arms.

*****

I had been an excellent student when I was in high school.  I had been accepted to several schools and received academic scholarships in addition to the financial aid I had qualified for.  I decided to attend school out of state like Nora had, but our reasons had been different.  She wanted to experience life in another city while still going to a prestigious university.  I didn’t really even care if the school was great; I just wanted to start over, away from disapproving and pitying eyes, away from Nora’s limelight.

When I found out I was marrying Enzo, all those dreams disappeared.  I couldn’t fulfill my obligations to Gerry if I were out of state.  I couldn’t go back in time and apply to one of the many schools around my new home.  And honestly, I didn’t even think about school during that summer before I married Enzo.  It was only after Nora had snapped me out of my funk that I started trying to figure out my life.

I wanted to start right away, but I had to wait for the spring semester since I couldn’t very well start halfway through even if I were to apply, get accepted, and find the money I needed to go to school.  After I had started working, I figured worst-case scenario was that I could save up enough for a community college and then hope to get into a four-year college in the fall semester when I could apply for scholarships.

I had told this to Nora, to which she replied, “Why are you automatically assuming the worst?  Why not aim for the stars?  It’s not like you can fall from where you stand.”

Not many colleges accepted spring admits, but I was willing to try a few in the area. The problem was financial aid.  I no longer qualified for it because of my marital status to Mr. Wealthy.  Getting an academic scholarship was also pretty nonexistent since most of them had already been disbursed.

One of the best days of my life was followed shortly by one of the worst days of my life.  I had been calling my top choice college every day to find out if I got in.  It was a small, private college, but it was close to work, and I had enjoyed the tour I had taken on one of my lunch breaks.  They didn’t normally accept spring admits, but they had special cases in which you could apply.  I might have exaggerated a bit when I told them I had undergone a family emergency that prevented me from applying for the fall.

The woman in the registrar’s office knew me by my voice by the time I finally got the news. “Congrats, Paige, you’re in.  Your official letter will be going out today.  You should receive it shortly with all the information.”

I had squealed with delight and jumped up and down in front of my desk.  My co-workers were thrilled for me and took me out to lunch that day.  My boss even informed me that if I needed to have flexible work hours, that would be okay, too.  I was so excited that I called Nora right away and I even told my parents.  They were as excited as I was and I could hear the enthusiasm in both their voices.  I even somehow managed to avoid Enzo that evening.  If he saw the megawatt smile I was sporting, he would find some way to kill my mood.  So yep, that was one of the best days in a while.

One of the worst days came about three days later.  I had been optimistic in my quest to get in, so I had been looking into avenues to pay for school.  My meager salary was good for everyday necessities and my small savings would be good for books and other things I might need, but not for the tuition I knew I’d have to pay.

I found a scholarship based on both merit and need.  I had no problem providing transcripts, but it was the “need” part that had me biting my fingers.  After much thought, I decided to lie; tell them I wasn’t married and provide some pay stubs and my account balances.  All I needed to do was pass the interview and all would be good.

The scholarship came from a private company based out of town.  They had flown in the gentleman in charge of fulfilling the scholarship applications.  They wanted me to “feel comfortable,” which, according to them, made applicants more willing to divulge information necessary to determine need and merit.  Therefore, we met for lunch at a restaurant near his hotel.  Aside from worrying that I had food stuck in my teeth, the concept of a lunch meeting was actually a great idea. It made things more casual, so that when he asked questions, it felt more like a conversation than an interrogation.

My interviewer was a gentleman by the name of Anthony Marti in his mid-to-late thirties with a few gray hairs already peeking through his black hair.  It made him seem more distinguished.  He was more handsome than attractive, but a small dimple in his left cheek was very disarming.  His best feature was his smile.  It wasn’t a panty-dropping smile like Enzo had; it was a comforting smile, like an authority figure making sure you felt safe at a school event.  I actually felt a little like I had a schoolgirl crush on my teacher when I spoke with Mr. Marti.

The interview had been going well. I answered every question perfectly. I was on a high.  Just a little longer and I was sure I’d be getting the scholarship and all my issues would be resolved.  But fate hated me almost as much as Enzo did.

“Hi, dear,” I heard the voice that made me gasp in panic.  I was afraid to turn around; I was afraid to speak.  Here I was, sitting with the only hope I had for going to college that semester, the one I had lied to, and it was about to be dashed.

“Oh, uh, hi, Enzo,” I stammered.  “Wha … what are you doing here?” I asked.  I really didn’t know what Enzo did while he wasn’t around me, but what were the chances he’d be at the same restaurant where I was at the same time?  Telling you, fate hated me.

“I could ask you the same,” he spoke, his voice dripping with disdain, his eyes flipping back and forth between Mr. Marti and me.  Please don’t give me away, I prayed silently.

“Oh, how rude,” he said as he turned to Mr. Marti.  “I’m Enzo Faust, Paige’s husband,” he emphasized “husband” as he put his hand out.

Mr. Marti didn’t miss the word husband. I could tell as his eyes bugged out.  He shook Enzo’s hand and told him his name, but he turned quickly toward me.  “Husband?” he questioned.  “I believe you may have left that part out.”

I felt the tears spring to my eyes, but I couldn’t answer him.  I nodded meekly before hanging my head in shame and pain.

“Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Paige,” he spoke as he stood up, indicating that the meeting was not only over, but his tone of voice said I was out.

“You, too,” I whispered.

“I wish you the best of luck. It was nice meeting you too, Mr. Faust.”

“I’m sure it was,” Enzo answered like the cocky bastard that he was.

Mr. Marti smiled tightly before he retreated.  Enzo grabbed my arm after throwing down some twenties on the table.  He squeezed too tightly, but I didn’t care at that point.