Virtue & Vanity (22 page)

After observing me for several moments, he got up and took off his tie. My gaze remained focused on my knees and I slightly shuddered when he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off as well. Then he approached the tub again and ran a shower. I remained curled in a ball, tightening my grip around myself as I felt the warm water spreading over my weakened body. At first I didn’t want to relax and give in to the feeling of pleasure, because he was the one providing it. Still, even though my mind was prideful and cautious, my body started to enjoy the soothing sensation brought about by the stream of a hot shower. Melancholy took hold of me as he massaged shampoo into my damp hair with so much tenderness, that I melted from the sensation and wondered why it had to be so difficult to trust him. The answer to my question vividly appeared before my eyes. At that moment, I was very grateful for the shower because it camouflaged my sadness. The fact that he was the one who was washing me, taking away the troubling feeling of impurity was not only sad, but ironic as well. When he finished washing my hair, he squeezed some shower gel on his hand and spread it over my back. I tensed up because I didn’t expect him to do that, but eventually my body softened under his skilful hands. I kept crying the entire time. He touched me so gently it made my heart ache. After rinsing my back, he handed me the bottle and then disappeared into the room. When I turned off the shower, he came back with a big T-shirt and a pair of underwear in his hands. He reached for one of the towels and walked up to me. My body shivered from the cold as well as embarrassment, because I had to reveal my nakedness to him again. I was surprised by his patience, when he slowly started drying my hair, face, shoulders and back.

“Can you stand up?” His lips brushed against my ear and sudden fright consumed every inch of me.

I wanted to protest, but I was so exhausted, I knew I couldn’t do it without him. All my energy had been drained out of me and I had no strength left to defy him. Somehow I managed to stand up, covering my body with my arms in the process. Sebastian was standing in front of me, gazing straight into my eyes. He wrapped the towel around me and asked me if I could wipe the rest of my body. I nodded and mechanically dried the rest of my skin. He was holding the T-shirt, waiting for me to finish.

“It’s one of my T-shirts. I hope you don’t mind?” he asked quietly.

I shrugged, feigning indifference and raised my trembling arms when he lifted up the shirt to put it on me. He looked at me warmly like he understood my pain and humiliation while he rolled the shirt that smelled like him over my nude skin. A slight feeling of relief swept over me, because ridiculously, I felt safer when that thin layer of fabric covered me all the way to my thighs. I reached for the panties and quickly put it on before he got a chance to do it. He chuckled when I did that, gazing at me with some kind of strange fire in his eyes.

“Can you walk to the room?” he asked in a mild voice.

I nodded without thinking and he caught me by my elbow to help me get out of the bathtub and walk me to the room, but my legs were so weak that I collapsed on the floor after barely taking a few steps. Sebastian swore under his breath as I tried to get back on my feet, but it was hard for me to catch my balance again.

“Calm down. Are you okay?” he asked, but I was still trying to get up. He didn’t like it at all and wrapped his arms around me to stop me. “Don’t move.” He scowled at me in a light voice and I stilled at once.

“I’m sorry.” I barely managed to get the words out, looking at him with what had to have been an expression of immense helplessness.

“You’re not the one who should be sorry,” he whispered softly, getting lost in his thoughts as I gazed at him with confusion, fighting to stay awake.

There was so much silent compassion in his eyes and I wished for him to say the words that were left unsaid, but as usual he snapped out his gloomy mood before it could get the best of him.

“You need to get some sleep,” he said as he lifted me in his arms and blackness appeared before my eyes the moment my head landed on his chest.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Something heavy was pressing on my chest and I couldn’t catch a breath. I woke up in a daze, surrounded by the darkness and the sound of Sebastian’s breathing was the only thing breaking the deadly silence. He seemed to be so close that I actually felt his breath on my skin. Startled by my discovery, I urged myself to regain complete consciousness. Then I became aware that his arm was wrapped around my waist and his chest pressed tightly against my back. I felt something hard against my lower back, and when I realized what it was, I shrieked and sat up so fiercely that he had to pull me towards him to stop me from falling off the bed. He exhaled loudly, then shifted on his back and lay next to me. I observed him with apparent mistrust, still disturbed by my nervous awakening.

“Another scary nightmare?” His voice was hoarse and he was still sleepy.

“No. I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Why?” He wouldn’t let it go.

I remained silent, wrapped up in my thoughts, ashamed to answer his question.

“For heaven’s sake, talk to me.” He pushed away the covers from his body and I flinched, startled by his sudden movement. Shaking his head, he sighed and looked at me in confusion. “What is going through your mind?” he asked in an inquiring voice.

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from showing him how truly distressed I was. As he came closer, I winced and turned to stone. Showing empathy for my troubled state of mind, he looked at me knowingly and moved his body away from mine. However, he still kept his arms wrapped around me, making me feel trapped. I closed my eyes and focused on my heavy breathing, trying to control the rush of adrenaline that caused the fast beating of my heart.

“Breathe, you have to breathe!” He encouraged me when I started panting for air.

Moments passed by, but my breathing still didn’t return to normal. He swallowed and looked me in the eyes. “Isabelle, I gave you my word. I’m not going to do anything.”

“I can’t help it… I’m scared,” I said through a shallow breath.

I had no idea where this flood of honesty towards him came from. Only a few days ago, I wouldn’t have dared to utter a single word about my feelings or fears to him, whereas now I talked to him without hesitation like I wasn’t afraid of any consequences.

“There is no need to be afraid. It’s nothing.” He ran his fingers down my hair and along my cheeks. “You don’t think I’m going to hurt you, do you?” It almost sounded like he was worried.

I could try to hide my true emotions all I wanted, but my body had a mind of its own and its response to his closeness gave him all the confirmation he needed. His reaction to the realization that I was still terrified of him didn’t escape me. The emotion in his eyes was clear and unmistakable—he was filled with frustration, but he fought to keep it at bay. I wondered how long it would take for him to release the monster. I wondered how long I could tip toe around the threats that were driving me insane. And while I stared at his revealing emerald eyes, I could tell we both wondered how long before this would come to its inevitable, tragic end.

But while I waited for the bubble to burst, he seemed to have been set on a mission to prove me wrong by replacing his irritation with patience of a saint.

“I know I’ve crossed many limits—limits I shouldn’t have crossed, but I never lied to you, Isabelle. I’m not trying to trick you, I promise.” He waited for my reply, but when I didn’t say anything, he tried a different approach to gain my trust. “I’m running a multi-million dollar company. Do you think people would want to do business with me if my word didn’t hold credibility?”

I shook my head to give him a peace of mind, but only one thought consumed my mind.

He sighed. “You can shake your head all you want, but you don’t trust me. I can see it in your eyes,” he said in a disappointed tone and then looked at me with his piercing green stare. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” I whispered as my cheeks burned with embarrassment.

That was when he decided to turn on the lamp on the nightstand. He lightly gripped my hip and slowly turned me on my side. He tilted up my chin and brought my face to his level. I was daunted by the way he looked at me and it was obvious that he would ignore my plea and talk about it anyway.

“Why are you still afraid when I’ve repeatedly told you I wouldn’t push you past your boundaries?” He remained silent for a while, like he thought about something that caused him distress. “What do you think I’ll do?” he asked softly.

When I heard his question, memories rushed in a fast stream, bringing back the pain, the humiliation and the shame he had caused, but I couldn’t tell him that he had scarred me for life.

I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters,” he said firmly. “What scares you
right now
?”

For a moment I thought I could win and keep him locked out of my mind and my heart, but his persistent stare told me there was no escaping this so I finally gave up.

“I… I think you’ll,” my cheeks were on fire and he brushed his knuckles along one of them, encouraging me to continue. I finished the sentence in a shaky breath, “t-touch me.”

Instead of saying something, he continued running his fingers down my hair and along my cheeks. “
This
is what scares you?” His expectant stare pushed me to act and I nodded shyly after a while, wanting to hide from him, but he wouldn’t allow it. His eyes were trained on mine. “Is it that bad?”

He gently let his hand slide down my shoulder and I shivered from the feeling of goose bumps that threatened to appear on my skin. I shook my head.
No, it isn’t bad, but it’s dangerous.

“Then why? Why are you afraid?” he asked is a soft voice.

“Because I think you’ll t-touch me and…” I couldn’t finish. I couldn’t have this conversation with him. “Please, I can’t…”

He didn’t push me to finish the sentence; it was obvious he knew exactly what I feared.

“Your fear is understandable, but I would like you to try and see beyond it.” I didn’t expect him to say that. I wasn’t prepared for the level of sympathy he was displaying. “If I wanted to do something else, I would have done it a long time ago.”

His eyes gleamed at me, trying to lock out a reaction, but I had nothing to reciprocate with.

“Tell me how to make it better.” He had a perplexed look on his face. “What do you want me to do?” 

“You wouldn’t understand,” I answered quietly, feeling the building pressure that was about to explode.

“Then make me understand. I need to know,” he pleaded.

I gave in and opened up to him. “I always thought it would be different. I had dreams b-before...” I swallowed the words, but he knew what I wanted to say.

“What did you want before you married me?” he asked cautiously.

I remembered the things I wanted and what a naive, foolish girl I had been. With eyes wide open, I shook my head as the bitter memories attacked my tired mind and he looked at me like he could read my every emotion.

“All I ever wanted was someone who would l-love me. But I don’t believe in fairytales anymore.” I looked away in shame of sharing this with him, but he decisively made me look back at him.

“Did you ever meet that man? Were you ever in love?” Tenderness reflected in his stare while I slowly shook my head. “Isabelle,” he said my name in a whisper. “There is nothing wrong with the things you wanted. Everyone deserves to be loved. I wish—” He stopped abruptly, trailing off into his own mind, and then swallowed whatever he was trying to say. “Why did you marry me? Did you think I would be that man for you?” he asked instead and I winced at his words as the image of my mother’s conniving face flashed before my eyes.

I shook my head. 
No, I never thought you could be that man.

“Then why? I even gave you a chance to leave at the altar. Why didn’t you take it?” he asked quietly, confusion ringing from his voice.

Remembering what he had told me in the church before we got married brought about the immense feeling of sadness and pain. 
You don’t have to do this Isabelle. Just say the word and you will walk out free. 
If only I had taken heed in his warning. But despite my wishes, I knew back then, as well as now, that nothing could have saved me from marrying him.

“I didn’t have a choice. I had to marry you,” I admitted.

“Why do you keep saying that? Rosario didn’t force you to sign that contract.” He looked at me in confusion. “Did she?”

“She didn’t.” I paused for a moment because what I was about to say was hard. “My mother did,” I said in a vague whisper. “I didn’t want to get married to a stranger, but she wanted the money so badly and I eventually gave in to her threats.” I tried to keep my voice even and hide the contempt I felt towards that woman.

“So your own mother blackmailed you into marrying me?” There was an undertone of accusation in his voice. “It’s unbelievable what greed does to people.”

Even though I wasn’t sure what he tried to tell me, I took his words to heart and the shameful feeling of disgust I felt towards myself came to the surface.

“I’m well aware of the fact that I married you because you’re rich. You don’t have to remind me that I’m a pathetic gold digger,” I scowled at myself, taking the full blame for entering this failed and toxic marriage.

“Isabelle, I didn’t mean...” The contours of his face settled into an apologetic expression.

“Yes, you did! But I don’t blame you. Why would you respect me when even I can’t bring myself to do that?” The words came out in a whisper.

His breathing was getting harsher as he stared at me vigilantly, like I had insulted him in some way. “Don’t you ever refer to yourself as a gold digger again! 
You
 are my wife and I do respect you, but I’ll be damned if I let you continue walking all over yourself like that. You hold none of the guilt, Isabelle. None.” His stare gleamed with raw affection until it became softer and a lot more sophisticated. “You’re wrong if you think I’m not affected by this mess. I hate to see you like this. I wish... I wish I could have been that man for you. I wish I gave you a fairytale instead of nightmares,” he whispered, finishing the sentence he left hanging moments ago. 

My heart started beating rapidly as I tried to process his words. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t escape his captivating gaze. His eyes were trained on mine, and for the first time, I found something in them—a glitter of light, a sparkle of hope to hold onto. 

“Don’t...” I closed my eyes because I didn’t want to look at him and see honesty. It was too much for me to bear. “Please don’t pretend that you care!”

Taking advantage of my moment of weakness, he pulled me closer to him. He kissed the top of my head and kept his face on my hair, inhaling its scent. I opened my eyes and stared at him. At first, he just returned my stare, confronting me with the green storm gleaming from his eyes and then he pulled me dangerously close. I observed him anxiously as he parted his lips and let out a gasped chunk of air.

“I care.” He looked at me like he was in pain. “I care about you, Isabelle.” He exhaled and suddenly seemed relieved of some burden.

My eyes widened in surprise because there was something powerful radiating from his gaze. He leaned even closer to me, embracing me like he would never let go. Our breaths simultaneously picked up the fast rhythm as he stared at me with visible restraint on his face. I froze because he looked at me like he saw me for the first time in his life, like he’d discovered something new—like he truly cared. He took my hand and slowly leaned it against his hot chest. I closed my eyes and felt his rapid heartbeat under the layers of hard muscles. When I opened my eyes again and looked up at him, the beating of his heart seemed to have been even faster and more powerful. He gently cupped my face and repeated the words, wanting to convince me they were true.

“I care.” His voice was a gentle, reassuring whisper.

Then he brought his lips an inch from mine and paused for a moment. I started breathing nervously because for the first time apart from fear, I also felt a strange fluttering feeling that went all the way down to my stomach. I saw him part his lips, ready to kiss me, and I was bewildered by the magnetic power of emotion that suddenly pulled me towards him. We closed our eyes and I was ready, but when his lips brushed against mine, my body intuitively moved away from him in fear.

I felt a painful lump of regret squeezing my throat, and my eyes opened wide from the surprise of my reaction, whereas his remained shut. When he looked at me again, he had a pained expression on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but he gave up and just rolled over and lay on his back. That’s how we spent the rest of the night—lying awake; listening to each other’s breathing and not sharing a single word.