8

The voices grow louder as they walk further into the front entryway and my temper is at an all time high as I stand, closing the door as gently as possible. The urge to slam it was strong but I didn't want to cause a scene. I'm not that kind of person, as I'm sure Anthony knows.

"Why did you close the door?" Hestia asks.

"Because he's home." I seethe, taking a seat at my vanity to do breathing exercises to calm my racing heart.

"But," I see her eyebrows furrow in the mirror, "You're married, don't you want to see him?"

I scoff, almost laughing, "I'm sorry but I'd rather not be reminded that I am married to that cheater."

Hestia stands, her hand going to her chest in shock, "Cheater? What do you mean?"

I look at her with a confused expression, "Did you not see a woman attached to his arm at the mall? He even brought her back here! What kind of decent person brings their mistriss home when their wife is still there? Disgusting."

Hestia pauses for a moment and then sighs, "I should go and bring back more cookies."

I nod and watch as she leaves, hearing the click of the door behind her. I swear I could hear Anthony's laugh downstairs and it drives my heart rate back up. I stand and turn on the tv, turning it up loud enough to drown out any other kind of noise. I take a deep breath and lay down on my bed, looking at the tv but not paying attention to what is on the screen.

More high pitched laughter comes from downstairs and my heart squeezes. What is it like to laugh with someone that loves you? I know of brotherly and parental love but love from a husband? I'll never get to know what that feels like. 

I grab my phone and unlock it, hovering over my brothers name before sending him a single message:

I miss you.

I don't know what he's doing right now but I know that if I wasn't here, he'd come to me as quickly as he could to make sure I wasn't lonely. I can't believe that he wouldn't fight for me or my right to choose who I want to marry. The lump in my throat made me so upset to the point that tears didn't ask for permission as they stream down my face. I grab my pillow and sob quietly into it, pretending it was my brother. 

A knock makes me gasp for air but I don't move from my spot, hugging the pillow tighter as my tears refuse to stop. If Hestia was back with the cookies, I'd gladly take some. Another knock on the door makes me look up at it at the same time it opens, Anthony's face peeking around it. His expression turns alarmed as he processes my fetal position and tear soaked pillow.

"Violet," He says, a sense of urgency in his voice as he closes the door behind him, "What's going on? Why are you crying?"

I scoff at him and push my face back into the pillow, not wanting to see him, "You broke rule number one, I didn't say you can come in."

My voice croaks like a frog but it is muffled by the pillow so I didn't care. I just want him gone but I feel the bed dip down beside me.

"I'm sorry I disrespected the rule but I needed to see you." Anthony says.

"Why bother?" I ask.

"I don't want you to be unhappy. I wanted to apologize for earlier, I didn't realize I was taking away a kind of freedom that allowed you your own space for solace. I'm sorry." Anthony's voice seems to drip with genuine intention.

I look up at him to see him staring down at me, his gaze set on my face and I can tell that he is concerned.

"Well," I say, rubbing my nose, "I don't forgive you. You did a shitty thing without telling me. It's gonna be a while before I can forgive you for that."

He breaks out into a smile and moves his hand closer to my leg, "I can live with that."

"I don't understand you." I whisper, moving my leg away from him.

Anthony tilts his head, "What do you mean?"

"First," I start, counting on my hand, "You want nothing to do with me, saying that you don't love or care for me and now here you are, all concerned about my wellbeing. Second, why make rules you can't follow? And third, you bring that woman here, who I am assuming is still downstairs, and expect me to forgive you for ruining the job I love when you really should be apologizing for her instead."

"Wait, slow down," Anthony says, holding up a hand, "Regardless of how I feel for you, you're still my wife and if you're crying, of course I'm going to care. I'm not that heartless. Second, I make the rules that I expect you to follow. This is still my home, I can enter when I please. Third, what are you talking about? Why should I have to apologize for having her over here? It was bound to happen eventually, she's been asking to come over for a while."

I feel my eye twitch at this new information, "A while? So she's been over here before? How long has this been going on? Why did you marry me if you were still going to be with your lover? Why should I have to suffer? Do you hate me that much?"

I feel hot tears on my cheek again and I get off the bed to put more space between Anthony and I. I watch his face contort into shock at my words and then into confusion as he seems to process them.

After a beat of silence, I open the door, "Just get out and be with her. Someone deserves love."

Anthony stands and comes closer, towering over my small frame as he leans down to become eye level with me, "What do you mean by lover?"