Mr Reluctant Billionaire || BWWM

Sixty-nine

It is hard.

Really hard.

We are tiptoeing around the issue, mostly me. I think we both know my decision, share my reluctance to voice it out because when I do, it becomes more real. So we are holding on to this blissful ignorance for as long as we can. Maybe I am holding on to it more.

But it’s unavoidable. And it is threatening to suffocate us. The awkwardness has seeped into our routines, habits. It is there in the way we sleep at night, the spooning. The slight wincing before a quick recovery when Brandon raises his voice over the phone. Or, how reluctant I am to take his hand or hug him back. I don’t even ask him about his day.

Nighttime is my favourite. On the bed, we pretend to be normal. Normal enough to allow him spoon me or place his hand on my belly. It’s the most skin contact we share. But each morning comes with the same fear, a realisation. I can’t hide or pretend forever.

I am scared. I am scared of my husband.

Bits and pieces of events fit into this puzzle called my life. Josh knows too. It makes a lot of sense. That cloud of anger that crosses his face at the mention of Brandon. I should never have interfered. Three brothers, one struck dead by his twin. Some sins can never be forgiven and maybe Josh is right. Even when forgiven, they can never be forgotten.

One.

Two.

Three.

On the fifth number, I crawl out of the bed to avoid waking Brandon. Ever since the slip, he has been super vigilant. I admire his concern, would have appreciated it if he didn’t make a confession that has me questioning every little thing he does. Even his breathing. Knowing what he is, why did he marry me? I am an honest, play-by-the-rules kind of girl.

Why did he bring me into this mess?

Why did I allow myself to get pregnant?

Why didn’t I believe him to be the monster he claimed he was?

Why am I still stupidly in love with him and delaying our fate?

Why am I still here?

My bladder cries out for a release, I drag myself to the toilet. When I am done, I stand in front of the mirror to laugh at the nest on my head. I smoothen my hair as best as I can, detangling the knots delicately to stall my return to our bedroom. I expect him to be awake but silent. That is how bad things have become between us. He’s too careful, he is waiting for me to drop the bomb. My reply. I want to, I want to free both of us from this.

But I cannot.

Not yet. I am not ready for the next stage. The strangeness that is sure to follow. I didn’t bargain for any of this. All I have ever wanted is a husband who will love me as much as I love him, maybe more. I was willing to do the work, be patient until he comes around. I thought Brandon to be the special one. That he will always be my first love and forever.

I wipe the tears quickly filling my eyes, it is the best I can do. Cry, cry some more and hide away from the world. I am avoiding Clarissa. Josh. My parents. The weight in my chest constricts my lungs, makes it hard to breathe knowing I share the same air with a man who killed his brother without remorse. But I am afraid the moment I see any of them, I’ll become a loose cannon. The details will tumble out of my lips within a blink.

And I don’t want that to happen. I hate that I still want to protect him. I want Ma to still see him as the lovely son-in-law who sends her gifts, checks up on them and spoils her husband with funds. She likes him. I do too. I love him. He is my all. Maybe not anymore.