CHAPTER 8

Sophie's POV

Everyday, I wake up wondering what mood my husband will be in. Last night, he ate my pussy so many times, I passed out from pleasure and I woke up this morning to him between my legs doing the same things again.

I began to notice the differences. Whenever Adrian was passionate, he didn't have sex with me. He ate me out, I came all over his fingers, his face, into his mouth. He made me squirt the other night and I saw stars at the back of my eyelids.

He stumbled into the room, drunk tonight. “You,” he said, his voice slurred. “Stupid bitch.” He fell on the bed and passed out.

I guess that was the mood I was getting tonight. 

I helped him take his shoes off, then his pants l. He drooled on the bed, saliva spreading across his face and I sighed. I will clean that up tomorrow.

I grabbed my cup of coffee and stood at the window, taking in the beautiful scene of cars moving beneath. After I finished my drink, I laid down, ignoring the feeling of being watched I had. I accepted it now, telling myself Adrian probably had cameras in the room.

He was gone as usual when I woke up. This morning, there was no quick dawn orgasm for me. I brushed my teeth rapidly, intent on making sense of all this.

Eloise slurped on her slushie. “So you are saying he was cold tonight again,” she said. 

“He was drunk. I don't know if it counts as being cold, but I know he didn't even hug me when he came home.” 

She nodded. “Is he bipolar?”

Bipolar? “I honestly have no idea, Eloise,” I sighed, placing my head on the table. “Could he be?”

My friend finished her drink. “I need a refill,” she said, slamming her cup on the table. We were sitting in the park, children running around us with their mother's yelling at them. Cars drove by, yellow taxis that never seemed to stop. Pedestrians passed by also, heading to their normal daily lives.

“Listen to me Sophie,” I focused my attention on her, peering from above my glasses. “I know you don't want to talk about the circumstances of your marriage. If he is having mental problems, you can leave,” Eloise said. She is right. If only Adrian Kane was an ordinary man. “You don't have any of these cocofelon at least,” she said, laughing. I laugh along with her. Adrian could be trying to get me pregnant. He never used protection and honestly, I think the only thing standing between us was the nexaplon I got a few years ago because of my hormones. 

“Thank you, Eloise,” I said, really grateful for her. “Please, the only good thing so far from this marriage is that card you wave around,” she said. 

I sighed heavily. “You really think he might be bipolar?”

Eloise shakes her head. “When you remind him of his passion, what does he say?”

“He looks at me like I have gone mad,” I groaned. “You seem to have lost your mind, Sophie,” I said, repeating the words Adrian has told me a few times.

“Maybe he has a slit personality?” she asked unsure. “What does that mean?”

Eloise types in her phone quickly. “Here,” she thrusted the phone at me. “Read.”

The simple search showed words that somehow seemed more terrifying than a bipolar person.

“Split personality disorder, also known as dissociative personality disorder or multiple people personality disorder,” I read loudly, “is a disorder characterized by the presence of two or more distinct personalities or states?” I asked. Eloise just shrugged so I continued. “It is usually a reaction to severe trauma as a way to help the person avoid bad memories.”

I put the phone down. “So you think this is what he has?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “He's passionate with you sometimes, during those period, he doesn't fuck -”

“Eloise,” I scolded, looking around hoping no child had heard us. 

“And when he's in his other personality, he hates you,” she finished with a flourish. I had to agree with her. He did act like two different people at times.

“Well, do you think I can help?” I said to myself. 

“Maybe. He needs a therapist.”

We spent the rest of the day watching a lot of videos, studying more on this mental illness my husband seemed to have.

I bid Eloise goodbye and returned home, hoping that the part of Adrian that comes back to me is the passionate one. It seemed they both answered to Adrian, and Eloise told me that might be his inner child that was hurt.

As I entered our bedroom, Adrian was already there waiting for me. “Adrian,” I said, watching him closely. I knew how this usually went. He grabbed me and forced himself on me multiple times or he made me see the stars.

“Hi, love.”

A sigh of relief escaped my mouth. I was dealing with the part of him I had grown to love. “Hi, Adrian,” I said, melting into his embrace. He kissed my forehead, hugging me tightly against his body.

“How was your day?”

Whenever he is in this mood, he always asks me that. “My day was awesome. I was with Eloise,” I said. He grinned at me. “Did you miss me at all?” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ears.

“You know I always do,” I said, reaching up to kiss him. He kisses me back, letting me explore his mouth with his tongue. After a while, he stops the kiss.

“I got something for you,” he said with a gleam of excitement in his eyes.

“Oh really,” I say, taking the box from his hands. I unpeel the brown packaging, wondering what he got me this time.

It's a copy of Pride and Prejudice.

“Adrian,” I whispered, opening the front cover.

“First Edition,” he growled in my ear. I feel his breath on my neck, waiting for my approval.

I turn around and throw my hands across his neck. “Oh, Adrian,” I cried. “I love it. Thank you so much,”

We fall in the bed and I decide tonight, I would be the one to worship him. Just as I reached for his trousers, he stopped me.

“I can't stay long, my love. I have that game,” he said. I sighed loudly. “Must you go?”

Adrian stands up from the bed. “Yes, I must. Who else would take us to the Nationals?” He kisses me quickly. 

“I'll be back soon. Miss me.” 

I grinned at him. “I always do.” He smiled at me before leaving me alone in the room, alone with the most precious gift I had ever received.

“Yeah, he definitely has DID,” I mutter to myself.