Chapter 4

Chapter 4

That night it rained; it was a very heavy rain as if the sky was filled with rage. I could feel my tears slipping out of my eyes while looking at the white ceiling of the room. Elijah's scent was all over me. I could still feel his touch as if his hands were still traveling every corner of my body.

The middle of my legs was sore—and I could feel it all like it was burning and wrecked.

“W-Where are you going?” He caught my attention in one snap even how stuttered I was when he didn't even lay down beside me.

He was all naked in front of me and he didn't mind. For so many years that we have been together as friends and as my sister's lover, I never once imagined myself being with him on this kind of night where we are both naked with our torn hearts and souls.

“The honeymoon is done,” he replied without giving me an eye.

I crumpled the sheet of blanket covered on my body. He sounded like he just portrayed his role as the groom in this wedding. My womanhood is burning, but the ache of my chest couldn't be compared to it.

“Y-You’re not going to sleep with me?”

I don't know if I should be asking that, but I am already his wife. We should do what the newlyweds usually do. But then, how can we? I can never lie to myself that we are only forced into this marriage.

I heard his bitter chuckle before he finally gave me an eye. My tears are welling out of my eyes and I knew that he could see it through.

“Have you forgotten, Faith?” A sly smirk plastered on his lips. It terrifies me even more.

“This isn't the romantic wedding the others have,” he paused until that smirk vanished like a bubble in the air.

“Only if it was Freya that I married,” he added in his low voice. Disappointment, agony, and rage were all painted from his face. His jaw clenched as he remained looking at me.

I married the evil version of Elijah as he killed his old self.

“But it's you, Faith. It's you,” he said that firmly, with no love but anger filling him.

“This is hell, Faith. The hell that you never wished to be in,” he grabbed a shirt before he marched out of the room, leaving me there hanging.

At that moment, something crossed my mind as I was the one who embraced myself. I cried just like how the sky cries loudly.

Am I raped or not? Looking back at how I ended here, Elijah forced me to have sex with him. He ripped my gown that is still on the floor in front of me. I asked him to stop, but he didn't stop. He glued his kisses and touched my body without any gentleness. But then, we just got married. So, can I call it as raped or a simple honeymoon that the newlyweds are supposed to do?

The next day, I had to pull myself out of the bed despite how wrecked I was. I stared at myself in the mirror after taking a bath. I don't feel any energy or strength in my body. I'm feeling so feeble and pale. My eyes were swollen from crying all night.

When did I ever stop crying ever since Freya died? When she passed away, I vanished as well—we all do. I am alive, but why does it feel like Freya also pulled me with her on the grave?

When I went downstairs to eat breakfast, I was still having high hopes that Elijah would at least join me. But then, I didn't find him in the dining room. There are only maids who are busy serving tons of food on the huge table.

“Where's Elijah?”

They all froze and glanced at each other, having non-verbal communication towards each other. One of them, the older one, I think, cleared her throat and dared to glance at me.

“We’re not sure if he's back. But I saw him leaving last night,” she replied, hesitant. There was fear from her eyes, which is probably the reason why she was thinking twice whether to tell it to me or not.

He left? Where did he go?

“Okay,” that was all I was able to reply.

“Sir Elijah,” one of them uttered, which captured my attention immediately.

He was wearing his navy blue tuxedo, probably going to work.

“Are you going to work?” I dared to ask. He feigned ignorance and if I was a wind. I could feel his coldness greeting me in the morning.

“Perhaps, we can eat together?” I added, hoping that he would at least do it.

He paused as he glanced at me blankly. So far and different from the old Elijah I used to know.

“You eat by yourself,” he replied. I was expecting that answer.

“I can't stand eating on the same table with you. Living with you on the same roof is already suffocating,” he whispered before he left.

I looked back and still watched him leave. My eyes watered again and I had to stop it from pouring its pain as the maids were there.

“You should eat now. You look pale,” the maid who spoke earlier said. She flashed a tiny smile on her lips, probably feeling the heaviness of this marriage we have.

“I’ll join you,”

My brows crossed as I looked back immediately after hearing that baritone voice.

“Lucas?” I was in awe, didn't expect to see him here.

“Can I?” He asked before that tiny smile painted on his lips.

“Why not?” I chuckled. I think that was the first time I chuckled since Freya died.

Instead of Elijah, Lucas was the one who joined me for breakfast.

“Aren't you busy? No shootings?” He is a very famous film director. He barely met us before because of his busy schedule. It is a miracle to suddenly see him here right now.

“I took a day off. Besides, we just finished the film that we will release next month,” I nodded. It's good to see him, especially now that I don't feel good for executive days already.

“Did the jerk leave?” I stopped when he asked that. I quickly eyed the maids who were there. They probably heard that as Lucas intentionally said that aloud.

“Lucas,”

He breathed heavily. “You knew that tying the knot with him is a big mistake,” he brought it up again.

I quickly looked away and tried to continue eating, forcing myself to swallow the food.

“We're already married, Lucas.” I said firmly.

“Exactly. I just don't understand why you had to obey your parents. You're a successful woman, a famous designer, you could have just left and abandoned them. It's not like you are asking them for a penny, Fai—”

I put down the spoon and fork, which created a little noise that cut his words out.

I exhaled a light breath.

“They are in pain, Lucas. They are all in pa—

“We are all in pain, Faith. Who is not hurt from Freya's sudden death?” He cackled and shook his head. I could feel the maids’ eyes watching us.

“But heck, it was not your fault. You were in an accident, too! You almost die as well. It's not like you have the power to decide whether to let Freya live or not,” another heavy sigh from him.

“Can we not talk about it? I'm sick of it,” I was already begging him. I already feel so weak that I don't even have the appetite to eat. My plate is already full.

After breakfast, Lucas stayed for a while and we catch up as if there were no big changes in our lives. When he left, I was left alone in the house the entire day as it's still my day off. Tomorrow, I'll be back working.

When the darkness invaded the sky, I found myself alone at the dining table again. There are a lot of delicious food in front of me but my stomach isn't even growling. I don't have an appetite to eat.

“You’re not touching your food,” the maid noticed when she poured a drink in my empty glass.

“Sir Elijah is already here. He's in the garden, drinking.” She reported. I didn't even know that he arrived.

I forced a tiny smile.

“Let him,” I replied. It's not like I can do anything to stop him.

I had to force myself to eat even just a little. After eating, I am supposed to head straight to my room, not until I find myself coming into the garden. Crazy, right? He doesn't even want me, and yet I am here, trying to fit in.

I just want to see him before I sleep, even though he is distant from me. I would bear it all, even if he despised me so much.

“I miss you so damn much, Freya.”

A single tear slipped down from my eyes the moment I heard Elijah's voice crack while looking at Freya's picture on his phone. There were already three bottles of alcohol on the table and he looked so miserable. The three buttons of his cloth were opened and his tuxedo was hanging on the chair.

“It should be you spending this marriage with me, not your sister—not that fucking bitch, Freya.”

I stepped back, crying in silence, sobbing with my hand covering my mouth.

That night, I realized that Elijah isn't just torn. His anger is also engraved on me. Perhaps, I really entered the cave of hell.

Did he ever treated me as a friend? Perhaps, not.

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