Karma

SIX

"I just had a small accommodation I needed in terms of beverages. Would it be okay if I wasn't given any alcohol during any of my meals? I'm okay with it being used to cook, I just meant that..."

My father was an alcoholic. And maybe it was one of the reasons why I became addicted to drugs so easily all those years back, but I was sober for five years now and I wouldn't risk it by having it with every meal every day.

I had the strength to have it some of the time but alcohol would not be the reason I spiral again.

She straightened out, sensing my anxiety by the way I kept avoiding her eyes and softly says, "Yes, of course. Don't even worry about it, my dear. I'll make sure water and juice are put out for you instead."

"Thank you," I let out a breath of relief, sending her a small smile before it dropping as I made my way back out to where Reece was.

He was already seated, already served with a plate of food in front of him and I could see that he hadn't taken a bite yet. Holding my head high, I sat in the seat across from him and made the action to slide my plate over when a hand on top of mine stopped me.

"What are you doing?" He asked and I shook his hand off, not used to being touched without knowing it was going to happen. Reece retracted his hand but kept his question eyes on me, waiting.

"I'm eating. What does it look like?"

"Why aren't you sitting beside me?"

"Should I be?"

The question hung in the air and he let out a small sigh, nodding and letting me settle into the seat across from him. He waited until I started eating to do so himself, sipping the glass of water that was beside his plate every so often.

"You're being unusually quiet." Reece commented after a few minutes of awkward eating went by. I only looked up at him partially, shrugging my shoulders and pivoted my attention back to my food.

"Catalina."

"What?" I asked in exasperation. "What do you want from me, Reece? What the fuck is it?"

"I don't know what I did to make you so upset at me."

"Really?" I asked, tilting my head at him. "You didn't think that this marriage could be one of the reasons why I can't stand to look at you—much less be in your presence right now without wanting to rip your fucking head off?"

He scowled at me, no longer eating. "I'm doing this for your benefit too."

"I don't need shit from you. I don't need you to do anything for me. I've been just fine on my own."

"Oh yeah?" He laughs in a low tone, putting down his utensils. "And how was that going for you? Your father used you to do his dirty work, fails to mention your very existence outside of his pristine brick walls, and then sold you off to his competitor for a quick buck. Just how fine were you, Catalina?"

I lost my appetite, sliding my plate away from myself before standing up. My hands slammed down on the table as I bent my head low so I was inches away from him.

"What? Just because you gave me my own room, a bodyguard, and some clothes you thought I'd be grateful to you? You thought I'd forget all about how you went behind my back and twisted up this stupid fucking plan even when I explicitly told you no? You thought I'd be happy doing something my father forced me into yet again?"

He didn't see it. Nobody ever fucking saw it. It didn't matter how much better this environment was from my old home—in my eyes everything was exactly the same. I had to be indebted to someone else because they gave me the bare minimum. Forced to do something I never wanted to do. Pushed to be somewhere I don't want. I never had a choice. I was never given the option of one.