Chapter 2 - The Door
Victoria stared at me as if I had suddenly started speaking another language.
Julian came down the remaining stairs quickly and planted himself between me and the front door.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
I looked at him.
Fourteen hours earlier, this man had held both my hands beneath an arch of white roses and promised to protect me for the rest of his life.
Now his jaw was tight with anger because I had packed a suitcase without asking his permission.
“Move, Julian.”
His expression changed.
Not much.
But enough.
It was the first time since breakfast that he seemed to understand I wasn’t playing along.
“Elena, you’re my wife.”
“That’s interesting.”
I adjusted the strap of my backpack.
“Twenty minutes ago, you told me I wasn’t your wife.”
Victoria stepped closer.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
She rolled her eyes.
“He was teaching you responsibility.”
“By throwing a dirty rag in my face?”
“You’re twisting everything.”
I almost laughed.
There was something remarkable about people who could watch cruelty happen in front of them and immediately rename it discipline.
Julian lowered his voice.
“Elena, go upstairs.”
“No.”
His face hardened.
“I said go upstairs.”
“And I said no.”
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then he reached toward the handle of my suitcase.
I pulled it sharply behind me.
“Don’t touch my belongings.”
His eyes flashed.
“They’re in my house.”
“They’re still mine.”
Victoria suddenly scoffed.
“Listen to her.”
She folded her arms.
“She has been married for less than a day and she’s already talking about his and hers.”
I turned toward her.
“You’re right.”
Her smug smile returned.
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”
“No.”
I opened the front door.
“You’re right that this marriage has lasted less than a day.”
The morning air hit my face.
Cool.
Clean.
Free.
“And that makes leaving much easier.”
Julian grabbed my wrist.
Not violently.
Not yet.
But hard enough to stop me.
My eyes dropped to his hand.
Then slowly rose to his face.
“Let go.”
“You’re not walking away from me because of one stupid towel.”
“This isn’t about the towel.”
“What is it about, then?”
I stared at him.
“It’s about the man who threw it.”
His fingers loosened.
That was when another voice came from behind us.
“What the hell is going on?”
Julian’s younger brother, Caleb, stood in the hallway wearing sweatpants and yesterday’s dress shirt.
Behind him appeared Julian’s aunt Denise and two cousins who had apparently stayed overnight after the wedding.
Victoria looked horrified.
Not because of what Julian had done.
Because there were witnesses now.
“Elena is having a tantrum,” she said quickly.
I smiled.
“No.”
I stepped onto the porch.
“Elena is leaving.”
Julian followed me outside.
“Where are you even going?”
“That’s no longer your concern.”
His eyes narrowed.
Then he looked at my backpack.
Something shifted across his face.
A realization.
“Elena.”
His voice became strangely quiet.
“What did you take from upstairs?”
I stopped.
There it was.
Not concern that his wife was leaving.
Concern about what I was carrying.
I turned slowly.
“My passport.”
His face tightened.
“My personal cash.”
Victoria’s eyes widened.
“And our marriage certificate.”
The color disappeared from Julian’s face.
That reaction told me everything I needed to know.
There was something about that certificate he desperately did not want leaving the house.
May you like
And suddenly, I wasn’t simply trying to escape anymore.
I wanted to know why.
