The Lies I tell Myself

The gala ended, and I didn't see him again. It was like he was never even there to begin with. Wilbet came hurrying down to meet me, his tie noticeably askew. I wouldn't say anything to him—I was mentally drained.

After saying our goodbyes, we made our way outside, where the limo was waiting. I entered first, sitting back and settling into the seat. Wilbet shut the door with a soft click as the driver wordlessly pulled out of the parking lot. Hopefully, he wouldn't say anything, and this ride would be a peaceful one.

Outside, the city went by in a beautiful blur of colors. I opened my eyes to admire the view, feeling Wilbet’s gaze on me intently.

Then he broke the silence.

"What were you doing with that man?"

I fixed my gaze outside, not giving him an answer. Maybe if I ignored him, he would leave me the hell alone.

His fingers tapped along the side of the car in a slow, deliberate rhythm. He was waiting. But I still didn’t answer.

"Aziza," he said, quieter this time. Too quiet. "I asked you a question."

"We were just conversing."

The words had barely left my mouth when I felt his hand across my cheek. My head snapped to the side, the sting blooming hot against my skin. For a moment, everything went silent—even the soft hum of the engine seemed distant with the way my ears were ringing.

Wilbet straightened his cuffs like nothing had happened. "So you know who that man was?" he asked, as if he had not just hurt me.

I blinked back the tears, willing myself not to cry. Wilbet hated the sight of my tears.

Forcing myself to breathe, I shook my head.

"That is Malcolm Laurent," he scoffed, as if the name irritated him. "A very powerful man. Some say he has affiliates with the Mafia, and you were standing there chatting with him like a damn fool."

I curled my fingers into my palm, feeling my nails dig into the flesh there.

Wilbet turned to me harshly, grabbing my face. "Tell me, dear wife, did you embarrass me?"

I knew "embarrass" was code for Did you tell him I hit you?

So I swallowed. "No. No, I didn’t."

He said nothing at first, then leaned back with a satisfied smile, running his hand through his hair. "Good girl."

The rest of the drive was silent. Wilbet didn’t speak, and I didn’t dare to. The only sound came from the car.

We soon arrived at our sprawling mansion, my stomach dropping with dread.

The driver stepped out in a hurry to open Wilbet’s door. He stepped out with ease before turning to my side. I stepped out to join him—he hated it when I wasted too much time.

The night was warm, but a chill ran through me as I followed him up the stone stairs that led to the main door. The house was dim, with no lights on save for the huge hallway chandelier. The staff knew better than to wait up for us when we returned late.

I reached the top of the stairs when he grabbed my arm.

"You know why I did that, don’t you?" His voice was quiet again. "Why I had to do what I did?"

I nodded numbly. My throat was too tight to speak. There was no reason for what he did. After all, he disappeared with Emile for the whole night, yet you didn’t see me slapping the fuck out of him. But I couldn’t say all that, now could I? So I settled for nodding.

His grip relaxed just a fraction as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to my temple. I shuddered with disgust, as if this kiss would magically make everything alright.

We both walked in. I made my way to my room, ready to just call it a night, as long as I didn’t have to spend another minute in his presence.

I walked into my room, leaving the lights off. Stepping into the bathroom, I shed my clothes and stared at my hollow reflection. My cheek throbbed from where Wilbet had hit me earlier in the car, the outline of his fingers beginning to show on my skin. I pressed my fingertips to it, wincing slightly at the pain.

I stepped into the shower, washing away the stress of the day. I wished I could just lie down and soak in the tub, but Wilbet had all the tubs in the house removed after I tried to drown myself once.

Stepping out of the shower, I did my usual routine, pulling on a silk nightdress, ready for bed. I pulled down the sheets and got in, remembering how I used to love reading before bed. But now, the sheer exhaustion of living this life never allowed me the luxury of reading.

I had barely closed my eyes when I heard my door creak open. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing him to go away. But he didn’t. Instead, he padded softly to my bed and climbed in beside me.

He pulled the covers and rubbed my shoulders.

"You really embarrassed me today, you know," he said in a casual tone, as if we were discussing the weather.

"Flirting with another man right under my nose. And you said you were just discussing? I’m guessing that discussion is what led you to stay outside alone with him, huh?"

I stilled, not giving him an answer.

The slap came fast and hard, sharp and unforgiving. I gasped immediately.

"I think I should remind you what your place is, shouldn’t I?"

I didn’t move. I didn’t react when he grabbed me. I had learned a long time ago that fighting him only made matters worse.

I turned my head as he pushed me down. The silk sheets were cool against my skin, but it wasn’t enough to stop the burning in my chest.

The pain barely registered. The way he forced himself on me, the way his breath was hot and damp against my neck—it was all a routine now. Keep quiet, and it’ll be done soon. My mind drifted, focusing on the ceiling.

It was over quickly. It always was.

Wilbet rolled off when he was done, sighing in satisfaction. He didn’t spare me another glance as he got up and left my room.

I lay still, staring blankly ahead. Slowly, I moved to the edge of the bed, slipping off and making my way to the vanity. Every part of me ached, my bruised side throbbing in protest as I moved.

I reached for a bottle of cream, dabbing it over my cheek. The routine was as familiar as breathing. I cleaned myself up mechanically, fingers working without thought.

When I was done, I climbed back into bed, curling up on my side as hot tears rolled down my cheeks. My sobs racked my body. I hated this. I hated my life. I needed an escape, but I was stuck here.

My mind raced with different possibilities until I gave in and slept out of sheer exhaustion.