“You locked me up?” Even though it’s obvious, it comes out as a question because of my disbelief.
I knew I didn’t know him like I thought I did, but my sweet hero would never have done something like this. I’m too shocked to make sense of it.
“I just need you restrained until I know you won’t try to escape,” he says calmly, still smiling like this is perfectly normal.
“How did I even get here? I don’t remember anything,” I ask, shock still numbing my emotions. I know I should be angry, but I can’t process anything.
He just grins. It’s a victorious grin. And realization shoots through me waking me like cold water.
“Oh my God! Did you drug me?” I screech, furious.
This is how it felt the last time he drugged me. The morning after the club. I can’t believe he’d do this.Again.
“Of course. You wouldn’t have come willingly, and I need you at home with me. I couldn’t go another night without your warmth. These last six weeks have been torture for me,” he explains as if I should feel bad for him.
“You’re fucking crazy!” I shout.
“Cecilia, what have I said about cursing? I don’t like this new side of you. My sunshine would never speak so foully. You’re too intelligent and kind to waste words on crudity,” he scolds me, and my blood boils.
He strides across the room and sits on the edge of the bed next to me. He grabs my left hand and holds it in his.
I glance down.
And am appalled by what I see.
“DID YOU TATTOO ME?!” I scream.
Fury washes away the shock. How fucking dare he? He adulterated my clear skin. Granted, the wedding band ink around my finger is dainty and can easily be hidden by my ring, but I can’t admire his handiwork right now.
“You ran away from me. You stopped wearing your ring. So, yeah, you now have a permanent wedding band so everyone will know you’re my wife.” He lifts my hand to inspect the tattoo, and a sweet smile takes over his face. Then he leans down and kisses the tattoo reverently.
Wait,wife?
He said wife.
He’s so fucking wrong.
I will never be his wife.
“We’re not married. And we never will be. So, don’t call me your wife!” I seethe, knowing it’s a low blow.
His face crumbles, and I almost regret my words until his expression hardens.
“You already are my wife. I was able to wake you up long enough to sign the paper.” He points to a framed certificate hung on the wall that didn’t used to be there.Oh my God, it’s a marriage certificate!“The plane staff were all the happier to be witnesses for a very nice tip.”
“You fucking psycho! You can’t do this! I hate you!” I cry out as tears well in my eyes.
I’ve always dreamt of my dream wedding. It would be in a garden. For our wedding, I’d have it in the courtyard at the mansion where he proposed. I’d be wearing a beautiful white dress, and my dad would walk me down the aisle. Everyone I love would be there.
And I definitely wouldn’t be drugged and unconscious in a plane with no one around.
A tear slips down my face, and I quickly wipe it away, only now pulling my hand from his.
He took that from me. After all he’s done to me, he did this too. I can’t forgive him.
When he sees the tear, he sighs and pulls me into his arms. He slides his hand up and down my back comforting me.
“Oh, Celia. You don’t hate me. You could never hate me. You don’t have a cell in your body capable of hate. Especially not towards your hero. You love me. And I love you, sunshine. More than anything. You should know that by now. Haven’t I done enough to prove it?” The delusion is evident in his wistful voice.
