I refused it all. I refused to face him at all, so he doesn't get the opportunity to 'correct it all'. It's too late to correct it all. I've finally taken things in my hands, while simultaneously getting aware of the depression I was pushing myself into. I want to live, and I want to live free.
These past few days have flew by with this very agenda. By few I mean four days. I've avoided him like he was a zoonotic disease.
How dare this sick form of human call me 'Mrs. Aubrey Alexander Campbell'!? Like he could claim me by sticking his name with mine like a leech. Bastard!
And what about that 'you're my only family' when his mother is alive and kicking!
I painted my frustration away. The painting was a mix of black and red. A women in black, her long gown revealing one of her legs, as she sits on a chair. The only red in the whole potrait were her lips, and the blood that was dripping from the knife she held. I was feeling sinister today.
A knock on the door interrupted my reverie, and I turned cursing under my breath, "Yes?"
"Mrs. Campbell?"
This was one of the bodyguard guys, who have all suddenly started calling me that instead of the 'madame' they used.
They are probably paid actors.
"Yes Brian..."
"Your dinner is served on the dining table. Sir said he wants you to be there."
I scowled, "For what?"
"I...I do not know Madame..", came the reply from the other side.
"Tell your sir to shove his order in his toilet drain. And Brian...no offense to you all...I am only trying to avoid that piggie."
I heard a snicker that made me smirk, "We all understand Madame. Don't worry, we are not offended."
*
I managed to draw a few more strokes and then, suddenly the door burst open startling me so much that my brush fell down.
My heart started thumping loudly and I turned to curse that person when I came in front of none but my dear husband, who I curse with every breath I take.
"What a delight-less moment!!", I squeaked holding my heart, seeing the pig himself standing in front of me with a big tray in his hand, filled with food.
He must have kicked the door with his legs. But wait! The door was closed.
"How did you come in?"
"Master keys."
But by then, the realisation already dawned upon me that this indecent creature entered my safe haven without my permission. Like he owned this place.
"Alexander! Get out! This is my room."
He looked at me bored, "Your room but our mansion."
"What are you doing here? Go out! I will come out in a minute."
He turned giving me high hopes but instead walked to the couch dropping the tray on the table.
"No. Since you wanted to coop in here like a hermit, I decided to enter this room. I respected your privacy enough for four days."
I glared at him, "Yes...you and respect never crossed each other's way."
He only chuckled, not at all amused, "You guessed it right, baby."
Baby? I look like a baby? Do I have a pacifier in my mouth?? Is he like those cringey guys who call their partners baby? Fuck! One more reason to divorce him.
By the time, I resumed my struggle against him, he was already eyeing something behind me. And soon enough he walked over to it, looking at my most recent painting. God! This scumbag! I do not show people what I draw or paint. It makes me squirm.
"Alexander....I..."
He cut me off, "This is gorgeous! She is gorgeous!"
His words shut me up, and I turned to look at him admiring the canvas.
He went ahead with the intention to touch it but I was fast enough to hold his hand, "Tsk! The paint is still wet."
He kept on staring at the picture like a madman, and that only filled me with anxiety. Why him of all people had to look at my art!
"Isn't this you...?"
"Me? Uh...no... ofcourse no! Don't you know art is imagination!?"
He gave me a look but continued looking at the picture like he was soaking it in.
My name was the only thing left to be marked at the right corner, and so I asked him to move and picked up my sharp brush. Dipping it in the white colour, I signed my name 'Aubrey' feeling conscious under his constant staring. He must be a successful creep..
"Whose blood is that?", He asked when I straightened myself.
I passed him a side eye, "Ofcourse yours."
The painting turned out perfect. It should dry up soon and I will put a resin coat over it to complete it and cov...
My thoughts halt when I hear him laugh, "And you still want me to believe that woman isn't you?"
I huffed. This man will be the miserable death of me. And not in a good way.
"Now you've seen enough. Leave my room."
He raised an eyebrow as if my idea is absurd, "Who would mind eating here with this scene? Wait, why don't I see all the paintings. You know I appreciate art."
My eyes widened at that, "Alexander I will kill you."
"You just did.", He pointed at the painting.
I groaned in irritation and left the room, heading to my bedroom. I was getting tired of this persistent man. Can he go back to his ignorant self!?
I washed my face in the washroom that has somehow started smelling like him. Like I know it is his strong body wash, but can he please tone it down a bit. Even my bed sometimes feels like a stranger to me.
When I left the washroom scoffing, he was already sitting on the couch doing something on his phone.
When he saw me, he smiled, "I've served the food."
"What a darling husband you are!!", I exclaimed taking a place on the couch. I've been trying hard to steer clear of his way, even if it meant not eating with people. I hated eating alone but he was/is being a pain in my beautiful backside.
He kept his phone aside and forwarded me a plate.
When I looked at it, I couldn't help but comment, "You know I don't eat like an elephant. This is too much for me."
"You eat less. You should eat more. Will make you healthy."
I looked at him with a bored look, even when my dumb heart skipped few beats. He noticed I eat less? My diet has considerably reduced in the past few months owing to the depressed state of my mind.
When I began eating, I saw him passing me a glance from time to time. But never really talking. I was surprised he didn't approach the topic of divorce on how I leave the divorce papers, ever night sticking out from his side of duvet to sign. The first thing in the morning I do, is to check whether he signed them or not. Only to stare back at the blank space. The papers are neatly stacked in my drawer but never with the trace of ink that I long to see. I also sweated, I will continue doing this unless he finally gives up and signs them.
"Tomorrow we have the board meeting scheduled."
I scoffed, "About time you ruin my peace. Dear Alexander, can I not go?"
I can beg him for this one if it is needed. I hate board meetings, especially because a certain someone who's name I do not utter on good days, comes to attend them.
He shook his head, "Not possible. You own 20 percent shares. You need to be there."
I sighed, "Don't you own more? 35 percent? And I have already given you the say in the business matters pertaining to me? You have more majority than anyone. You can make decisions without me."
He nodded, "I can. But I need to have the board's trust in me. I don't want to come out as someone who doesn't give you a say just because you are my wife."
I only stared at my food, not wanting to say anything in reply.
Board meetings were one thing that I have been constantly attending, except since the last four five months. Because in initial days of my marriage, a board meeting was the only opportunity I got to interact with my husband and I looked forward to it. Unless I realised there's no point.
"Ruby will be coming too??", I asked making his spoon halt midway, and his gaze snapping to look at me.
Few moments later, he shrugged, "I don't know..."
And then all followed was silence.
Surprisingly, I started feeling sleepy tonight without taking those sleeping pills. It may be because of the voluptuous meal. So I did not take them. I was afraid of not getting a good sleep but I knew a spontaneous sleep is way more comfortable than a forced one.
Rethinking my decision a few times, I kept the divorce papers in there designated place and lied down comfortably on my side.
Moments later, I felt the bed dip beside me and then the sound of papers, and then him sighing out loud.
"She's so stubborn.", He muttered under his breath, loud enough for me to hear, and then went to the drawers and kept them inside.
When I assumed he will go back to his place to sleep, I was shocked to see him coming to sit at the little place beside me.
I was constantly being tickled by the smaller hairs that had shadowed my face. I could feel the sensation but I was pretending to sleep.
And then my heart simply jumped out of my body, when his fingers gently pushed those hairs back, and tugged them behind my ears.
"Why do you sleep like there's no life inside you? You're scaring me every night. I feel glad whenever I see you going mad at me, rather than lying here unresponsive. For god sake, atleast turn and twist in your sleep so I do not have to check if you're breathing or not, every single hour."
I turned stiff. Do I not twist and turn at all? The sleeping pills basically push me into a temporary coma?
"Good night Mrs. Wife.", The duvet was adjusted over me, my hands were hidden inside the comforter and then the lamp on my side was switched off, before he left to lie on his side.
God is definitely not wanting me to live like a sane person.