Chapter 5: A Stray Bullet

Tara

— Let me go! Do you want to kill me?

His grip on my neck tightens. I feel the air leaving me. Then, suddenly, he throws me to the ground. He looms over me, immense. I clutch my throat, incredulous: the idiot nearly strangled me.

He goes to the shower grumbling, then calls out sharply:

— What are you still doing out there? Come remove the bullet you planted in my thigh.

I find him in the bathroom. He tears his pants, and I notice his thighs: solid, muscular. He opens a drawer, pulls out a first aid kit.

I get to work, hands trembling but precise. Thirty minutes later, the wound is cleaned, disinfected, and bandaged. He changed without a word; between us, a heavy silence hangs.

— Can we go have breakfast now? I ask.

— Are you attached to me? he snaps. Get off my balls.

— I can't get off your "balls," since they're mine now. Let's go eat; I'm hungry.

He gives me a killer look, then dresses to follow me. I promise myself once again to tame this cretin. I watch him limp with secret satisfaction: I'm the one who put him in this state. Hmm. I smile.

In the middle of the street, I stop; he bumps into me.

— What is it? he asks, irritated.

I think about the previous night: he kissed those women, possessed them every which way, and me? Nothing. Not a gesture, not a caress. Heat rises to my face. I keep walking, waiting until we're in front of everyone before kissing him in case he pushes me away.

At the table, my mother greets me; my father is probably in his office.

— Good morning, everyone. Mom, did you sleep well? I say with a smile.

Mike sits next to me; I point to the chair with a wink. My mother, surprised:

— Yes, my dear… but you look funny. What's going on? And your fiancé, what happened to him?

— Nothing serious, I just shot him, I reply nonchalantly.

She opens her mouth, then whispers, intrigued:

— What did he do?

— He had fun with two prostitutes. That's my way of venting.

My mother nods, satisfied.

— You did the right thing. Now eat; I'm curious to see how your relationship evolves; there will be twists and turns, I can feel it.

— Thanks for your support, Mom. I'm glad you're on my side.

I turn to Mike:

— My darling… What do you want to eat?

He growls when I call him that and I love hearing him growl, it's so… endearing. He looks at the dishes as if he doesn't know what to choose; eventually he just takes coffee. I handle everything: his utensils, his food. I like being in control.

The big day has arrived. I'm nervous: tonight, will he touch me? Will he accept me? I want to feel his hands, his lips… I want him to desire me without artifice.

They're doing my makeup. I look in the mirror: I'm beautiful, even more than usual. The whole household has schemed to get "their" men; I wonder if I should do the same, but maybe it's better to let things take their course tonight.

I'm ready. I'm about to marry a man who claims not to want me. No matter. I know how to tame him. He'll end up loving me. Tonight, I'll do everything to make him desire me, without resorting to any tricks.

We're not the only ones: my sister, my three brothers, my cousin Pamela and me all of my parents' children are getting married today, the same day. My mother enters, eyes shining with held-back tears.

— My darling, you're splendid, she says, hugging me. I'm proud of you. You're strong, beautiful, and determined. May you tame that savage and may he fall in love with you as you deserve.

— Thank you, Mom. I needed to hear that.

— Are you ready? Let's go.

My sister and I meet in the next room. She's sublime. We embrace, conspirators.

— I'm so proud of you, my princesses, Mom says, kissing each of us. Love your husbands, respect them, and be faithful. I love you.

— We love you too, we reply in unison.

We go get our brothers, who are busy adjusting their ties. They're impeccable. My mother, radiant, envelops each one in an embrace.

— Are you ready? she asks.

The house is abuzz; emotion hangs in the air like perfume. The time to leave approaches.