The Secret (Watty Award Winner) | ✔️

Forty Nine - Sarah

Ch49 - Sarah

Steven slowly glanced around the kitchen before fixing his gaze on Sarah. She knew she'd made him mad, and now she worried about the consequences. Taking another long pull on his beer, Steven took his time, looking her up and down.

A chill crawled up her spine as she realized he was sizing her up. But for what?

Sarah watched carefully as he took another drink, swishing the liquid around in his mouth before swallowing. He was playing games. Sarah recognized the look in his eyes—she had seen it many times before. He was trying to intimidate her.

Steven took a step closer, swallowing the remaining beer in his bottle. "Mmm, that tasted good, Sarah. I can't believe I've deprived myself of so many things, in order to be a better and stronger man. " He gave her a demented grin and set the empty bottle down on the counter. "How silly of me—I've been missing out ." From the corner of her eye, she kept the glass in her sight.

Where is Charlie? Sarah worried. On one hand, she was afraid he would walk in unsuspecting and make matters worse. On the other hand, he might be able to take control of the situation. All she knew was that she could not let him get hurt at the hands of her crazy husband. She would never be able to forgive herself.

Steven took another step closer and she felt herself cringe.

"What's the matter, baby? Do I make you nervous? Do you think I'm gonna hurt you?" he sneered. "You should know I would never hurt you, Sarah—or is it Talia? We never did clear that up."

"You're crazy," Sarah responded, unable to stop herself. She was trapped, just like Steven wanted her to be. Just like she had been since the day she'd married him. If she ran, he would quickly catch her, making the punishment that much worse.

"Now, that's not very nice. Especially after I worried about you so," Steven sing-songed. She could tell he was enjoying their reunion a little too much. "You're untimely death haunted me—I was devastated. The thought of you perishing in that fire was almost too much for me to bear," he said with exaggerated sadness.

"In case you're curious, I gave you the most beautiful funeral. All of our friends were there, and they were so sorry to hear of your passing," he said with fake sincerity.

"I don't have any friends," she retorted, coldly. "You never let me, remember? You never allowed me to do anything."

Steven smiled sadistically. "I beg to differ. It seems as if you had a very active social life—one I was completely unaware of. In fact, I met one of your friends at the funeral," he enunciated carefully. "Someone you failed to mention before."

Sarah could feel her blood run cold. What was he talking about?

"You look surprised. Did you think I wouldn't find out?" he asked with arched eyebrows. "Oh, what was her name again?" Steven feigned confusion, his hand on his chin as if in deep thought. "Ah, yes. Jamie Peterson—your self defense instructor." He studied her carefully, gauging her response. She fought hard not to give him the satisfaction.

With a disgusted huff, Steven continued, "After I discovered your indiscretions, I searched for you. Tirelessly. And now I've finally found you. Only, you don't seem happy to see me," he mocked, cocking his head to the side.

Sarah took a deep breath. She needed to stall him. "Actually, Steven, I am happy to see you," she said, forcing a small smile. "I think we need to talk."

It was apparent she had caught him off guard, he hadn't expected her to want to talk. He'd expected her to want to run. In fact, he had counted on it, she could see it in his menacing gaze. But she wasn't playing his games, not any more. She had fought too hard to break away from the tight grasp he'd had on her—there was no way she was turning back now.