006: Out Of Character

EDEN

      His face drains of color, and a spark of vicious satisfaction ignites in my chest. For once, he feels that punch of dread I've tasted too many times because of him. But the satisfaction is fleeting, because underneath it burns something uglier. Rage.

If I don't answer him, maybe the questions will die in his throat. Because if I open my mouth, I might scream. Or worse, I might tell him the truth.

I still remember the blood on the asphalt and the cold rain soaking into my clothes. The sickening fear as pain tore through me and I realized something was wrong.

I can’t forget how the life growing inside me had slipped away while I lay there, helpless, staring at headlights that blurred into nothing.

I swallow hard.

"Eden," he says again. "Answer me."

"Figure it out yourself, Wolfie," I spit.

A muscle ticks in his jaw, his eyes sizzling ferociously. If I wasn't so determined to fight back, my knees might've buckled.

I smoothly twist out of his grip and turn away without sparing him another glance.

"Eden." His voice follows me, low and strained. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

I ignore him completely, pushing open the double doors to his bedroom and stepping inside. His footsteps thunder behind me, making my heart pound harder.

"Eden!"

Still ignoring him, I reach behind my back, find the zipper of the suffocating wedding dress, and pull. The fabric pools at my feet, and he goes absolutely still in the doorway.

I'm left standing in nothing but white lace panties and a matching bra. And when I glance at him over my shoulder, his chest is heaving.

"I'm going to take a long shower," I drone. Holy shit, he actually looks faint, torn between hunger and fury.

I step over the heap of silk at my feet like it's trash and head for the bathroom door, my bare skin heating up under the weight of his stare.

I stop in the doorway.

"By the way," I murmur without looking back, "don't follow me."

He curses under his breath as I shut the door behind me. Oh, how I plan to make him bleed until he regrets everything he did to me.

...

Hayden is gone by the time I step out of the bathroom. My things have already been moved into his room and are awaiting my attention. After slipping on my nightie, I take out my calendar as well as my journal. An evil smirk tugs at my lips as I write down the heading.

"60 DAYS OF HELL."

Two months. That's all I need. I just have to make sure he doesn't get me pregnant. Again. Not after...

I gulp, shaking the thought away. Revenge is a dish served cold.

The more I think about it, the more excited I am. So I start writing every single thing I know Hayden hates. If he isn't going to let me go, I might as well get him to divorce me. Call it childish. I call it survival mode. If I needed to win against my husband—ew, by the way—I needed to do the most unconventional things.

I'm not sure how much time passes.

I don't bother with dinner. Food feels like effort, and effort feels impossible. I head straight to bed.

The bed swallows me whole, the sheets are cool and unfamiliar, and exhaustion drags me under before my thoughts can circle back to places I don't want to go.

I'm half asleep when the door opens.

"Eden?"

The sound of my name pulls me somewhere between dreaming and waking. My lashes flutter heavily.

He says it again. "Eden."

Not squirrel.

That alone is enough to make me perk up slightly.

The mattress dips beside me.

A hand brushes my hair away from my face, gently, long fingers tracing across my cheeks.

"You need to eat something," he murmurs. His voice is softer than I've ever heard it.

I shake my head, or at least I try to. It comes out as the faintest protest.

"No," I mumble.

He exhales softly. "You didn't have lunch."

Don't care, I think. Or maybe I don't think it at all.

"Tired?" he asks.

I nod this time. My eyes slip closed again, my body betraying me by relaxing further into the mattress.

For a moment, I'm actually drifting into LaLa land. But then, my eyelids crack open again.

Hayden's head is lowered, his hair falling over his face. It looks longer than I thought. His broad shoulders are slumped. If I didn't know better, I would think he's actually dejected.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

My heart skips a beat.

I don't answer. I don't know how.

"I shouldn't have dragged you into my mess. I didn't mean what I said earlier about threatening your dad. I'm sorry."

He's acting out of character. Is he going to die? He can't take the easy way out. Nope, not happening.

Sleep mercifully tugs at me again, pulling me under before I can decide whether his words hurt more or heal.

...

Hayden looks just as perfect as always the next morning. He still has that familiar devilish sparkle in his green eyes. But I can see the dark bags under his eyes. Almost like he didn't sleep a wink. I’m not sure where he slept last night. But judging from the tension in his neck and shoulders, it couldn’t have been anywhere comfortable.

Grandma is already seated at the breakfast table when we walk in, her pearls perfectly in place. Even her posture is regal. The moment she sees us, her face lights up as if Christmas has just come early.

"Good morning, my newlyweds!" she chirps. "You both are... glowing."

Hayden yawns before he can stop himself.

I bite the inside of my cheek.

His sister Juliet, who is comfortably seated at the table with her coffee, raises a brow. "Rough night, brother?"

He shoots her a glare. "Drop it."

"Oh, I don't know," she says sweetly. "You look exhausted. Eden must have kept you very busy."

Grandma leans forward eagerly. "Oh! Yes! Tell me everything."

Hayden chokes on his coffee.

"Gran—"

"Did you consummate the marriage properly?" she asks, completely serious. "Or were there... performance issues?"

I nearly spit out my juice.

Hayden's ears turn red. "Jesus Christ."

Juliet bursts out laughing. "Oh my God, Grandma!"

“What?" Grandma snaps. "These things are important! I need heirs as soon as possible."

I tilt my head, feigning thoughtfulness. "Well..."

Hayden freezes. Every eye at the table swings to me.

I smile politely.

“He certainly tried," I say. "Very enthusiastic. Lots of... confidence."

Juliet snorts, and Grandma beams.

Hayden's jaw tightens. "Eden."

“But," I continue, sipping my juice, "I suppose stamina is something that improves with practice."

Juliet instantly loses it. "OH, SHE DID NOT."

Grandma hums thoughtfully. "Men these days do rely too much on ego."

Hayden pushes back his chair slowly and turns to face me, his green eyes darkening.

“Careful," he says under his breath. "You're playing with fire."

I meet his gaze, unbothered. "Relax, Wolfie. I'm just being honest. Isn't honesty important in a marriage?"

His lips twitch despite himself. "You're enjoying this."

“Immensely," I reply.

Juliet claps. "I like her."

Grandma nods decisively. "Me too."

Hayden exhales, rubbing his temples. "This family is impossible."

The moment almost feels... normal. But then the dining room doors swing open, and in glides Hayden's stepmother and her lovely carbon-copied spawn. Perfect posture. Perfect clothes. Perfectly curated disapproval.

She scans the table once, her lips pursing.

“Tsk. Such poor table manners," she says, regarding me as if I'm a stain on her tablecloth. "I suppose standards have... shifted."

There it is.

I open my mouth, but Hayden beats me to it.

“No one asked for your opinion," he says mildly, setting his cup down with care.

Juliet snorts into her coffee.

His stepmother's smile tightens. "Excuse me?"

“You heard me," Hayden replies pleasantly. "We're eating breakfast, not hosting a royal inspection. Sit down or keep your commentary to yourself."

Grandma exhales, pressing her fingers to her temple. "Enough. All of you."

The room goes silent right away. She glances between Hayden and me, her sharp gaze softening a little.

“Now," she announces, "since you are officially married, it's time for your honeymoon."

I blink. "Our what?"

Hayden stiffens. "Gran—"

“I've prepared everything," she continues breezily. "You leave today."

“Today?" I echo.

“You can't say no," she adds, smiling sweetly. It is obviously very much not a request.

Hayden opens his mouth again and closes it. I can practically see him recalculating his life choices.

I tilt my head. "How long?"

Grandma's smile widens.

“Two weeks."