“You seem different.”

I look up from my phone after checking it for maybe the millionth time. And no, I’m totally not obsessing or anything obnoxiously similar.

My eyes meet Mama’s and she smiles softly as she passes me the popcorn bowl. Salted caramel flavor—my favorite.

We’ve always had girls’ night—just me, her, and Ari. Oftentimes, Nan will join when she’s not busy touring the world with Grandpapa in their various humanitarian endeavors.

During these nights, we watch the cheesiest chick flicks or my comfort film, Bridget Jones’s Diary, while we gossip about everything and nothing.

This often happens when Papa is caught up in late meetings or events for the company. Such as he is tonight. Otherwise, he wouldn’t tolerate being separated from his ‘girls,’ as he likes to call us.

On this occasion, we put on a Japanese drama per Ari’s request. And by request, I mean she forced her opinion as always, and now we have to read subtitles because she refuses to watch it dubbed in English.

“Or you can, like, learn the language. It’s a disgrace that most Brits only speak their mother tongue when there are so many beautiful languages out there,” she said when I tried to persuade her to change the show.

“I speak Latin and French, thank you very much,” I informed her.

“One is useless and the other is practically useless as well. I, on the other hand, speak Spanish, Japanese, Mandarin, and am currently learning Arabic. Talk to the hand, peasant.” She waved said hand in my face.

Mum sat between us before I could kick her and now we’re stuck with this Japanese thriller drama that’s pretty interesting, actually.

But Ari will never know that, or I won’t hear the end of it. She loves gloating and lacks any sportsmanship concerning anything.

She tries to steal my bowl of popcorn, although there’s another one on the coffee table. I manage to shove her away but not before she snatches a handful and the rest spills all over Mama and the leather sofa.

Eli would look at me with a snobbish expression if I so much as left a crumb on his precious furniture. Now, however, the three of us just laugh as Ari and I proceed to fight over the bucket of sticky candy floss.

The mere thought of my husband has obviously clouded my senses, because Ari tugs the bucket from my grip and waggles her eyebrows at me.

I make a face and stuff my mouth full of popcorn. It’s been three weeks since Eli shattered my world to pieces, ran me a bath, then made it clear he wants nothing emotional with me.

The process of hurt and comfort has been ongoing since then. He’ll fuck me into oblivion, but will not allow me to look at him.

He’ll bring me to the edge in every position possible as long as I’m not facing him. Against his desk, on all fours, sideways from behind, slumped against the edge of the tub. Once he walked in on me picking up a book and fucked me standing against the shelves.

It was hotter than my books, just saying.

He runs me baths afterward. Always. Without my having to ask. But he doesn’t join me.

He takes me to shows and dinners—mostly because I make him. He joins me when I’m in the theater room, though he couldn’t care less for my taste in films. He parades me around at events. He brings me flowers for all my performances that have become so common lately.

But he never lets his walls down.

It doesn’t matter how deep and raw his touch is, Eli’s mind is still way out of reach like a faraway galaxy that’s physically unattainable.

The only time I feel he loses some control is when his cock is pounding into me and driving me crazy. And yet, even then, he’s powerful and in absolute possession of his resolve. Sometimes, when I beg to see his face, I feel like he’ll flip me over, but he never does.

I hate myself for not being the same brand of cold he is.

But most of all, I hate that I crave his touch, that he knows all the right buttons to push to keep me coming back for more.

And yet every time he shoves me to my stomach so he can’t see my face, and every time he doesn’t share my bed, I feel a part of me ripping at the seams and falling away with the depressing finality of an autumn leaf.

We’ve been having sex regularly for the past few weeks, and by regularly, I mean every day. Sometimes, two or three times a day.

But I’ve never seen him naked. Not once.

The only time he got naked was after that first time we had sex and I couldn’t open my eyes to see it.

It’s been three weeks of constant mind-numbing orgasms that he makes sure I get before his, yet I don’t feel closer to him than before. At least, not on a deeper level like I’d like to.

Yes, our relationship is better than when I first woke up in the hospital. He’s more accommodating if I’m ‘reasonable’ and he does make time when I ask.

But it’s still not…enough.

And I guess I’m coming to the awful, hideous realization that this is the closest he’ll ever allow me to get.

Close enough to own, but not to like.

Close enough to eat what I cook, but not enough to let me within his walls.

Close enough to be in a marriage with benefits, but not enough to be in a real marriage.

“Ava?”

I lift my head at Mama’s voice. “Yeah?”

“You just looked a bit lost in thought. Is everything okay?”

Japanese dialogue fills the room for a beat before Ari shoves the candy floss tub in my lap. “You can have it. I don’t want it anymore.”

I smile softly at my sister. She’s always given up her things for me—like her favorite anime figurines, toy racing car, and fluffy key chain—in the hope that it’ll get me out of my moody phases.

It’s a habit she’s had since we were little, and even though she’s old enough to realize that tactic doesn’t really work, she still employs it religiously.

“Is it because I said you look different?” Mama asks. “It’s just about the vibe, and not anything physical.”

“Definitely physical. You’re glowing, sis. Bet you’re getting enough dick to use it as a facial.”

“Ari!” Mum scolds. “Don’t be so crude.”

I grow hot.

“OMG, Mama, look, she’s blushing!” My sister bounces while sitting. “Called it! Totally called it! Now, tell me, does he have the dick energy that matches his earth-shaped arrogance?”

“I will not dignify that question with an answer,” I say with a clearing of my throat.

“So he does! I knew it. Men like him and Remi are the personification of superior sexual energy. My theory is, it’s in the genes.”

I narrow my eyes. “I still haven’t forgotten about your episode with that bastard Remi.”

“What episode with Remi?” Mama asks with a raised brow.

“Hey, don’t go badmouthing my lord and savior.” She smacks me teasingly behind our mother’s back. “And, dear Mama, you know I’ll marry Remi. I told you so when I was, like, eleven, so don’t play oblivious.”

Mum’s brow furrows. “I thought we talked about this already? He has no interest in you and we don’t do desperate.”

“He so does.” She winks at me and I roll my eyes as she interlinks her arm with Mama’s. “Please help me butter up Papa.”

“You know he still hasn’t come to terms with Eli. If you get with Remi, he’ll surely have a stroke.”

“I’ve been researching ways to lessen the blow. But more on that later.” She fixates on me. “You’re not avoiding the question, missy. If it’s not because of Eli’s dick energy, what did he do? Should I whack him for you?”

I laugh. I can’t help it when she sounds so serious. “You’re a gangster now?”

“I’m many dangerous things under the right circumstances.”

“And you can take him out?”

“With the help of Papa, Remi, Lan, Cecy’s man, and Bran’s scary fiancé, who’ll do anything he says, absolutely. Eli King who? He won’t see us coming as I blast ‘Don’t Fear the Reaper’.”

I shake my head, feeling a bit lighthearted. “It’s nothing like that.”

“You sure? Because I can totally start a group chat.”

“You’d start any group chat just to include Remi.”

“True, but, like, this is also for a noble cause.”

“You’re such a menace.” Mama hugs her and kisses the top of her head.

“I’m your and Daddy’s little girl. Thank you very much.”

Mama laughs with visible pride.

Sometimes, I wonder if she and Papa would’ve been happier if they’d only had Ari. She’s a dangerous little hellion, but she’s mentally normal.

She doesn’t suffer from sleep paralysis, nightmares, and an untold Pandora’s box of psychosis madness.

I doubt she’d feel apprehensive about sharing a bed with someone else because they might see her as a monster who should be avoided.

Mama faces me with an expression that’s special for me. Soft, loving, and careful. She always seems hesitant and extremely careful whenever she talks to me.

I understand. She’s searching for telltale signs. Ever since they found me walking on the roof and I fell and broke my arm, my parents have been extra wary of the tiniest change.

Cecy did that at uni, too. My parents agreed to let me separate from them only if I shared a flat with her. And while she’s a less scrutinizing version of them, she’s still equally concerned.

It’s why I prefer living with Eli. He might be distant, but at least he doesn’t make me feel on edge when I’m around him.

He certainly doesn’t look at me as if I’m a ticking bomb that’s nearing the explosion point.

Sometimes, the atmosphere is so comfortable, I forget that I have this chronic psychosis that could manifest itself in the worst scenarios possible.

Short of our usual visits to Dr. Blaine, he doesn’t ask about the pills and never brings up any of the conversations we have in her office. It’s become so habitual that I almost believe I’m normal.

Almost.

Mama slides her hand around my shoulder and squeezes me closer to her. “If there’s anything you want to tell me, I’m all ears, hon.”

“It’s nothing I can’t take care of. Don’t worry.”

“Is Eli giving you a hard time?”

“I’m the one doing that. I mess with him as if it’s an Olympic sport.”

“And how does he react to that?”

“Silence mostly. Sometimes he’ll glower or pinch the bridge of his nose.” I stop before I say he punishes me with my arse in the air.

I didn’t think I liked spanking with sex until my enigma of a husband trained me to be wet just by hearing the words, “Behave.” “Make no mistake, if I see you smiling at others, I’ll take it out on your arse, beautiful.” Or, “You’re just begging to be punished, Mrs. King.”

“Bitch, please,” Ari says. “He can’t have the goddess without some drama. He should be thankful, if you ask me. And if he’s not, we can go with my glorious assassination plot.”

“Stop threatening your brother-in-law with murder,” Mama says even as she smiles.

“Only if he treats my sister right. I take no prisoners.”

“Oh really?” I cross my arms. “Heard he’s providing you with constant intel on Remi.”

Aside from that.” She mirrors my stance with a sneaky smile. “He’s still my brother-in-law and family. Compromises, Ava. Have you heard of them? Word on the street is they’re good for marriage. Right, Mama?”

She laughs but nods at me. “They are for sure. There’s no such thing as a harmonious marriage without compromise.”

“What if I’m compromising on things I don’t want to compromise on?” I ask in a low voice.

“Have you tried communicating that?”

“Eli isn’t the communicative type. He’s worse than an army general who expects all his orders to be met.”

“Are they always met?”

“Hell no. I defy him for fun, like, eighty percent of the time.”

“Does he retaliate?”

I pause, thinking of all the times he just narrows his eyes, shakes his head, then walks away. “Not really.”

“Then there’s compromise from his side. Just because you fail to see it, doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

“But he’s infuriating, Mama.”

“You still went to hell and back to marry him.”

I roll my bottom lip between my teeth as I meet Ari’s gaze and she shakes her head. She doesn’t want me to bring up the fact that my insistence to marry Eli has brought trouble for our parents. I apologized after I heard about that, but Mama said there was nothing to be sorry for while Papa remained silent.

“Honestly, I didn’t understand why you were so insistent on it back then.”

“Then why did you help me, Mama?”

She strokes my cheek softly. “The look in your eyes told me everything your words couldn’t. Besides, with time, I came to see how this thing between you two works.”

It does? How?

I want to ask since I certainly don’t see it, but the last thing I want is to worry my parents any further. I’m already the worst thing that’s happened in their lives, so there’s no need to make it any uglier.

“It doesn’t work.” A deep, familiar voice reaches us first before Papa stands in front of us, jacket in hand. “Stop indoctrinating her into believing in that useless marriage.”

“Papa!” Ari wraps herself around him in a koala embrace.

I shove her away to hug him longer than needed and then my sister and I fight over who hugs him more, just like when we were young. So Papa pulls us both to either side of him and kisses the tops of our heads.

“Are you here to announce your overdue divorce, princess?” he asks with unmasked hope.

“Cole!” Mama scolds.

“What? We all know she should ditch the loose screw and come back to live with us for life. Isn’t that right?”

I smile. “I’m an adult, Papa. I can’t live with you my entire life.”

“Sure can. It’s completely acceptable in other cultures, and we should normalize it here as well. We can start with our household. Look at Ari, she’s already sworn allegiance to me for life.”

“Is that so?” I tilt my head to look at her.

“Shut it,” she mouths at me, then grins at our father. “Daddy’s little girl for life. You’ll never get rid of me.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“You’re so full of shit,” I say.

“Ava is jealous, boohoo.” She clings to Papa before Mama pulls her away, probably to stop her from grimacing at me.

“Have you lost weight?” Papa examines me closely, rotating my face from side to side. “I knew the prick wasn’t feeding you properly. Let’s sue him for neglect and get those divorce papers while we’re at it.”

“Cole…” Mama warns.

“Maybe he can serve some time in prison as well?” He smiles mischievously. “It’d be perfect revenge for taking away my princess. The horrified look on Aiden’s face would be worth it as well.”

“I’m eating just fine, Papa. He actually takes me out to dinner regularly and makes an effort to pick restaurants that serve my favorite cuisines.”

“Hear that?” Mama asks with a warm smile. “Will you stop being insufferable to our son-in-law?”

“I have no son-in-law and never will.” He narrows his eyes. “Did he tell you to say that? You don’t need to lie, princess. I’ll make him pay.”

“I’m not lying, Papa.” I kiss his cheek. “In fact, I promised to join him for dinner tonight, so I have to go.”

“What about me? You won’t have dinner with me?”

“You have Mama and Ari.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but Mama stands and interlinks her arm with his.

“Go on, hon. I’ll take care of your dad.”

“Love you.” I hug them together, then smooch Ari on the cheek before I head to the door.

Behind me, I hear Papa saying, “What’s the restaurant? Maybe we’ll join.”

“And start a world war?” Mama asks.

“I will behave.”

“You said that the last time before you locked Eli out of the house.”

“It wasn’t on purpose, butterfly. I genuinely mistook him for a cockroach. Not my fault he has more resemblance to vermin instead of humans.”

I smile as I turn around and wave.

“Princess, tell me. I promise not to punch him.” He pauses. “More than three times.”

My face hurts from all the smiling.

Well, then, time to face my nemesis.

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