Page 40 of A Sorrow of Truths
He’s married.
Chapter 17
Gray
The look of horror, of sheer terror and disgust directed at me, is well deserved given her life and how I found her. I stay still and watch her carefully, waiting for the inevitable explosion that will come any minute. She can have it. She can shout, scream, and smash this whole damn house up if she needs to. I wouldn’t blame her, and this place is nothing but a farce anyway – never has been anything but that. Maybe I should demolish it with her.
Or for her.
Nothing comes out of her. No movement. No anger or waving hands. Even the tears that were beginning to come because of my honesty seem to have stopped falling now. I eventually stand and round the table, perhaps hoping that if I’m closer she’ll find a way to get it out of her mouth and reprimand me for adultery. I’ll take it when she does. If anyone has that right, if anyone on this planet has the right to chastise me for my behaviour, it’s her, because there’s no way in hell it’s the woman I call my wife.
“Where is she?” she spits suddenly.
“Here.”
Her eyes widen, feet backing away as I advance on her. “What’s her name?”
“Heather.”
Both her hands fly to her mouth, as her back collides with the glass doors. “You …” She moves, crawling the glass work to get away from me. “There was heather in our room. Your room. The room I was in when we were …” Her head shakes, body still trying to get away from me. I reach for her, one hand hoping to catch her before she uses those bare feet to full advantage. “Don’t touch me,” she snaps, pushing my hand away. “You’ve got no right. None. Married? How could you?”
A hysterical shriek sounds out from her, making her small form seem immaterial to anything in this vast monstrosity. “I trusted you. I …” More steps sideways, her eyes wildly chasing everything and anything in the room but me. “And you knew, you knew what he did to me and now you’re doing the same to her.”
“It’s not the same.”
Her hands clasp her head, fingers tugging her hair violently as if she’s about to pull it out. “With all of them. You’re fucking everything and you’re married and I can’t-”
“Not all of them. Only you. I’ve told you that already. I meant it.”
“Liar. You’re all liars.” She picks up a stone from the ground around the trees, launching it at me so fast I barely avoid it hitting me. “Fuck off. Get away from me.” No.
Not until she understands it all.
My body moves too fast for her to avoid, arms wrapping her up into me. “It’s not the same, Hannah. I’m not like him.” She batters and twists, using every bit of her body’s strength to get away from me again, as she slaps at my face. Fingernails shred my skin instantly. I feel them raking lines along my jaw, as if all the anger, betrayal, and ferocity she’s got to give is coming out of them. “If you let me explain-“
“IT IS THE SAME!” she screams, pushing me away again.
I follow, chasing down fucking hallways to get to her so I can explain. I need to now. All these years of keeping it secret, of the web being trawled, experts deleting and hunting down information to get it off the open forums before everyone else knows.
“Hannah, stop,” I shout.
She doesn’t. She keeps running at pace, her head not even bothering to look where she’s going, as strong limbs and speed push her onwards. More corners, more damned colours that represents nothing about me, and she forges into the main foyer and out the open door into the night. Her bare feet skip down the steps to get out into fuck knows where, dress rucking up around her as she carries on at full pace.
“Get your ass back here,” I grit out, still chasing her.
Three more strides and I catch hold of her arm again, swinging her back to me so harshly she yelps at the contact and collides against my chest. Her arms whirl again, hands and nails coming to inflict more anger on me. I grab hold of them, cinching them behind her back until she calms down enough to hear sense. “Stop.”
“Fuck you.”
More struggling and twisting comes from her, venomous eyes sending feelings at me I know all too well and shrieks and curses screamed as loud as she can. I lift her and throw her over my shoulder, my own hands clamped on her thighs to keep her still and my feet striding back to the room she needs to see. Angry? Yes. I know that, too. I know all about life getting fucked up in a dark abyss of wanting truths and not getting answers. “You wanted the truth from me, you’re going to damn well listen to it,” I growl, climbing up the steps again.
Jackson’s at the top of them when I get to the door, his face a picture of puzzlement, as I walk passed him. He’s not the only one feeling perplexed lately. Everything has become a contradiction of wants and desires. Love even. I’m burning inside, twisted up with feelings I’ve never owned before her. I frown and head towards the east wing, unsure what the hell I’m going to say when I get there other than everything I don’t want to tell her. All I’ve got left is truth in the hope that she can help me find an answer there’s only one realistic answer for.
“Put me down!” she yells, pounding my back with her fists.
“No.”
“I DON’T KNOW YOU!”