REPLACEMENT WIFE (Short Story) [THE MARTYR WIVES BOOK 1]

19. Samastya

VIDYUT

I was brief with my words when I threatened her. But was the rage in my control at this moment?
No, I was trying my best to represent my maturity over my fury, to make her witness the better of me than the worst of me.

But she was dead set to see the direst, intentionally she shoved me down to the circumstances we were brought to be together rather than seeing how good of a position we ought to be in if we tried.

I gave her all the right reasons to be upset with me, no girl, not the one who was forced into marriage would be happy to witness her parents taken out of their house and also, the one who forced her family into giving her hand was her husband.

But marriage is about looking forward, and she is dead set on the gone.
The thought of her not being in the house, killed me, I watched her face, her declarations that she was refused to be by my side like that night.
The declaration that refuses to wake up in my arms like today's morning.

And it was a big denial from me. I don't care for her hatred, because I am sure I will make into something more. After all, there is only a thin line between hate and...

I dragged her outside of her house, with clear words. It's a reverse relationship. Not because I wanted to force her, never. But I wanted to make her fear me, to show her what the worst she calls me is like. Even for briefest moment.

I held her towards the car and threw her inside, her eyes met with me with hatred filled in them, something coerced daily just lessens its effects.
Her hatred-filled eyes did nothing to the situation, to my rage.

I drove the car, breaking the speeding limit, while she held herself back in the car seat for the strong pressure of my driving. I turned to see her once, and she had eyes filled with tears.
Involuntarily my clutch on the steering wheel tightened, and my knuckles white but I controlled myself. My breathing was heavy, but so was hers.

Impact of two different human emotions, mine was rage but hers was fear. Strangest feelings but always together. Somewhat the same as our relationship. Strangest individuals but now? Together.

I don't know how much time it took to home, even at full speed the time felt longer, and perhaps it was her silence that made the hands of the clock strike for more than 60 seconds per minute.

She was scared,
I am an obsessive and possessive old bastard! Because that was the only way to have her home. To have her with me. I have tried communication with her, and it only leads to me caving or her snorting comments!

And I wasn't caving for letting her stay apart from me for a whole goddamn! Week. 

Parking the car, I waited for her to step outside, but she watched nothingness on the dashboard, I waited but then stepped outside and walked around the hood, reaching her side. Opened her door, held her arm with similar pressure to how I held her earlier, and made her stand on her feet.

And a strike landed on my face, a slap, “So you are going to assault me, the same way my sister was before her death?” I heard her words and then she chuckles.
“Same way before my death. Because you will touch me. And I will die Vidyut!” She said, my eyes held the ground captive. Or was it wind or my wrath that held the air tensed? I am not sure.

I looked up to meet her eyes, her fear pinched my chest making me shift.
And I gave her all the reasons. But only because I want her with me.
And I know how her beautiful innocent face, but not so innocent words shift my beliefs and make me act things I wouldn't ever do.

She started to cry, pushing my chest, and turned to walk away, but I held her wait and made her twist around to fumble on the support of the same chest she pushed. Her hand landed on my shawl yet again, but not, in the same way, it held me before we left.