The Good Wife

13

The violent screech of tires with the sudden jolt, yanked her out of her thoughts. With sore, tired eyes, she looked out of the window at the Hemsworth villa.

"We're home," the driver announced.

Home? A place where you go at the end of the day. A place where you feel safe.

This wasn't her home.
Her husband's house wasn't her home, nor was her father's.
Amber sat there, thinking for a moment that she had never actually had a home. She was never truly comfortable or safe anywhere; she was just surviving under whichever roof she could.

"Let's go, honey." Her husband spoke, stepping out.

Amber stared at his face as he scooped her in his arms. Her sore limbs melted in his arms. He was a beautiful man, she knew it and she also knew that once she was hopeless in love with him. He was just that perfect, what could go wrong with a man so charming as him?

But she doesn't feel it. No matter how hard she looks at him, she can't feel that love erupt in her heart like it always did.

Was she at fault?

Was it her fate?

Or, was it Pariston?
Was the perfect image she created of him in her mind just an illusion because the real Pariston sure doesn't look anything like what she always thought.

"Finally, someone decided to show up after an entire week!" Mrs. Hemsworth stood at the doorway, welcoming them with her 'sweet' words as usual.

"All that time for a minor problem. You really just need excuses to be relevant, don't you?" She scoffed.

"Mumma, not right now. She just got back, she's sick and you're not helping her situation." Pariston sighed.

Mrs. Hemsworth's mouth gaped wide open as Pariston walked past her with Amber in his arms.

Pariston placed Amber down on the bed, supporting her back with a pillow and tucking the comforter on her.

"Would you like to eat something? Fruits?" He questions, tucking her hair away.

Amber flinched away at his touch, staring down at her lap.

"Amber, when I ask you a question, you answer." He says softly, sitting near her.

"Can I see . . . Papa?" She whispers, looking at him through her lashes.

Pariston lets out a sigh, smiling at her.

"Of course, we can call them for dinner sometimes this week. But, only if you have your meals and pills on time so you can be fit when they visit." He chuckles, stroking her cheek.

She stares at him silently, knowing this man is never good to her unless there is a beneficial reason behind it.

"Why did they hold me in the hospital for so long when it was just a tear?" She asks, earning a glare from him.

"Do I look like a doctor, Amber?" He snaps.

She looks away from him. She was right, he was just pretending to be good. He can be an angel to the entire world but when it comes to her, he has many layers to him and all of them are purely fucked.

"Do I?" Pariston growls, causing her to flinch.

"No." She whispers.

"Then why the fuck are you asking me stupid questions?" He snarls, grabbing her jaw.

Tears pool into her red eyes, as she looks up at him.

"Sorry." She whimpers.

"Your lunch will be here, eat it and sleep." He snaps, climbing out of the bed.