Let Him Hear Me

(Arielle)

“Don’t you want to see the look on Damian’s face when he realizes he’s been betrayed?”

I said it the next evening, standing in Nathaniel’s kitchen with a glass of wine I hadn’t touched. He had come home early. He’d taken off his jacket and loosened his collar, and he was looking at me the way he had all day, as if he were waiting for a verdict.

“Betrayed,” he repeated.

“He thinks I’m a blank page. Someone he can rewrite whenever it suits him.” I set the glass down. “He told a woman who couldn’t remember her own name that she had no husband and no son. I want him to find out, slowly, that he never had the upper hand.”

“Revenge isn’t a clean thing.”

“Neither is what he did.” I held his eyes. “He and Vivienne lied to me. Fine. I can lie too. They think I’m still lost. Let them keep thinking it. Let them get comfortable. And when they are, I’ll take it all apart.”

He was quiet for a long moment.

“You’d need to be convincing.”

“I’ve been a convincing wife for ten years.”

Something flickered across his face. Anger, maybe, or admiration. He crossed the room and stopped in front of me.

“And what do you need from me?”

“You told me last night you wouldn’t take advantage.” My voice softened. “I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to be on my side of the table. In every way.”

“Arielle.” He said my name carefully, like a question. “Tell me plainly.”

“I want you in my life.” The words felt strange in my mouth and entirely true. “Not because of Damian. Because for the first time in a decade, I’m choosing something for myself.”

Nathaniel studied my face.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes.”

He reached for my hand, giving me enough time to change my mind. I didn’t. Instead, I moved closer and rested my forehead against his chest.

His arms came around me.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he lifted my chin and kissed me.

It was gentle at first, almost hesitant. There was no rush in it, no attempt to turn the moment into something I wasn’t ready for. I held his shirt and kissed him back, allowing myself to enjoy something without wondering what Damian would think or what Vivienne might say.

When we finally pulled apart, Nathaniel rested his forehead against mine.

“I don’t want to be another mistake you regret,” he said.

“Then don’t make me regret trusting you.”

He gave a small nod.

“That’s a promise I can make.”

He took my hand and led me out of the kitchen. We spent the rest of the evening in his room, talking about things we had avoided for far too long. He told me about his work, his childhood, and the reasons he had stayed away from certain people. I told him about the woman I used to be before marriage turned my entire world into Damian’s property.

At some point, I fell asleep beside him.

For the first time in years, I woke up without feeling as though I owed someone an explanation.

The following morning, I found my phone on the bedside table.

Twenty-three missed calls.

All from Damian.

I stared at the screen.

Nathaniel, already dressed, looked over from the doorway.

“Is something wrong?”

“Damian knows I’m gone.”

“Did you expect him not to notice?”

“I expected him to pretend he wasn’t worried.”

I unlocked the phone. Before I could decide whether to call back, another call came through.

Damian.

I answered.

“Hello?”

“Where the hell are you?”

His voice was sharp, but beneath the anger was something else. Panic.

“I came by the hospital, and your room was empty. The nurses said you checked yourself out. Arielle, you have a head injury. You can’t just leave.”

“I’m sorry. I needed some air.”

“Air?” His tone changed immediately. “You’re still recovering. Tell me where you are. I’ll come get you. Vivienne’s worried sick, and Ethan keeps asking about you.”

I looked at Nathaniel.

He was watching me, waiting to see what I would do.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“Then tell me where you are.”

“I said I’m fine, Damian.”

“Who are you with?”

I paused.

It was a simple question, but I could hear the suspicion creeping into his voice.

“Someone who has been helping me.”

“Someone?” He repeated the word. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’m not alone.”

“Put him on the phone.”

I almost laughed.

Ten years of marriage, and he still believed he could issue commands and expect everyone to obey.

“No.”

“Arielle, don’t start this nonsense. You’re not thinking clearly.”

“Maybe that’s the problem, Damian. You’ve become so accustomed to thinking for me that you can’t accept the possibility that I can make my own decisions.”

There was silence.

Then his voice dropped.

“Who is that man?”

I glanced at Nathaniel again. He had moved closer, but he didn’t interfere.

“Why does it matter?”

“Because you’re my wife!”

The words came out so quickly that I almost missed them.

My wife.

How convenient.

“Interesting,” I said quietly. “I thought you weren’t sure I had a husband.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

“Arielle, don’t you dare hang up on me.”

I ended the call.

For several seconds, I stared at the screen. Then I placed the phone on the bedside table.

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.

“That went well.”

“He’s angry.”

“He sounded more frightened than angry.”

“Good.”

I walked towards the window and looked out at the street below. Somewhere out there, Damian was probably making calls, demanding answers and trying to figure out where I had gone.

Let him.

He had spent years controlling the story of my life. Now it was my turn to decide what happened next.

My phone started ringing again.

Damian.

I watched it vibrate against the table.

Then I turned away.

“Let him keep calling,” I said.

For once, he could be the one waiting for an answer.