⚠ warning: uncomfortable content towards the end of the chapter. not graphic or explicit violence, but trigerring nonetheless
Eva felt the cool kiss of the pendant on the skin of her chest as Vincent fastened the chain behind her neck.
“It’s beautiful,” Eva murmured, grazing her fingertips across the delicate chain hanging down her collarbones. “Thank you.” It looked like Eva’s style; thin, and simple, and not carrying even the slightest shine. But she felt nothing when being gifted it by Vince – not the way she’d have felt if this was the first year of their relationship.
Back then, he would put a studded ring on her little finger, or a pair of floral gypsy hoops through her ears. Eva had never liked loud accessories with floral patterns, or the uncomfortable weight on her fingers no matter how delicate the ring was – but there’d been something about being given those little trinkets without asking for them that made her feel remembered and thought of. There’d been something about her being spent on that told her she was worth someone else’s resources and attention.
That allure had worn off over the years though. Like waves that washed over a rock over and over again, chipping away little bits of it over time until it just wasn’t the same anymore. Eva’s wedding ring felt like a leash now – the chain sitting around her neck, a collar.
But wasn’t this all there was? Eva bit her lip as Vincent eased himself back into the seat opposite her, a smile on his face that reminded her just how handsome he’d been when she first caught a glimpse of him all those years back – how handsome he still was. He looked an entirely different person at times like these. He looked like someone that loved Eva – and that mattered. A lot.
Vincent had seen something in Eva that nobody else had – and he still continued to do so. It was why he’d chosen her all those years back, why he stood by her still. No matter how much he made her feel pain – searing, blinding pain – he never turned her away. He still gave her his roof, his bed, his arms. Wasn’t that a testament of his love? Who else could love Eva that way? Her own mother had left her behind. But Vincent never, ever had. Eva remembered her mother telling her how much she loved her, but at the end of the day, her words meant nothing because her actions hadn’t lived up to them.
Vincent was different. He always told Eva he loved her, and she knew he always meant it. He stood by his words, despite all the ugly parts of her. Despite the numerous times she’d made him angry, made him upset. Despite all the times he responded by hurting her back. What love was greater than that which stayed and never left?
He’d taken her in when Logan had dusted her off his hands and discarded her from his huge mansion like dirty laundry. Vincent had always been there.
“What are you thinking about?” Vincent asked, leaning across the table and taking her hand in his. They were in some fancy restaurant that Eva had never been to before, a place that Vincent said he’d come to know of when one of his colleagues threw a farewell party. They weren’t inside the restaurant – Vincent had taken a more romantic approach and booked them a table in the private garden behind the stone building. There was only one other couple there, but they were seated too far away to be within earshot.
“Nothing,” Eva replied. She didn’t think of things that would amuse people, did she? Her mind was simple and plain. Nothing intelligent to respond to Vincent’s question with. Why would she need to embarrass herself in front of him?
“You seemed very lost inside your own head,” he told her, playing with her hands, that smile not leaving his face. His eyes reminded Eva so much of Lillian. Precious, precious Lily.
“I wonder what she’s doing,” Eva couldn’t help but say, her feet restless on the grass tickling her toes.
Vincent sighed, and Eva watched closely for that flicker of annoyance that warned her she was pushing a little too much. But it wasn’t there. “Relax, Evelyn,” he squeezed her hand. “She was asleep when we left the house. And the babysitter will let us know if there’s an emergency.”
Eva’s heart involuntarily leapt at the casual words. What kind of emergency could arise with regards to her baby girl? She hoped there would be no emergency of any sort whatsoever, that Lillian had a wonderfully peaceful sleep.
“There’ll be no emergency,” she said out loud, trying to convince herself her kid was completely safe at home. Lillian probably was – but this was the first time Eva had left her alone, and that made her shift around like her seat was a bed of needles.
“Exactly,” Vincent looked pleased, “that’s the spirit. Don’t ruin the date worrying.” He patted the back of her palm and brought it to his lips, his breath warm on her skin during the cool night.
It sent a warm feeling through her, but there weren’t any butterflies like there once had been long, long ago. Eva suddenly thought of a cream coloured business card with rose borders, given to her a long time ago too. How late was too late? She thought of Millie Morgan, and realised that five years definitely crossed that threshold.
They reached home after a nice meal that Eva wasn’t able to enjoy entirely because of nagging thoughts surrounding Lillian, a meal that made Eva recall what it was like being a teenager in love – just without all those exhilarating emotions. Vincent had appeared to like it though, if his warm smiles and tender touches and honey words were any indication.
Eva headed towards Lillian’s room as Vincent paid the babysitter. She felt her smile grow as her feet neared her daughter’s door, wanting to just look at her for a moment while she slept, then pull the quilts up around her, and kiss her on the forehead.
She heard feet behind her and a pair of very familiar arms take a hold of her shoulders, steering Eva away from Lillian’s room and towards the one Vincent and her shared instead.
“Vince,” Eva said, stopping in her tracks. “I didn’t even say goodnight. Let me just–”
“Evelyn, she’ll be there in the morning,” Vince sighed and this time, Eva felt like she picked up on a tone of exasperation in his voice. “She’s not going to disappear.”
Eva bit her lip. Annoying Vincent when he was in an already bad mood was easier territory – because Eva knew how to play it safe then.
But when there was a risk of upsetting him when he happened to be in a pleasant mood, all bets were off. Because he could either be too content to piss off, or his state of mind could do a complete one-eighty and blame Eva for trying to ruin his happiness. The latter somehow made Vince even angrier – because unlike when he was in an already rotten mood, Eva wasn’t just someone to take it out on, but the sole reason for him turning sour. And that always meant more pain.
Maybe one more try wouldn’t hurt, though? Eva would just sleep better if she could see her daughter sound asleep and comfortable in bed. Just a peek through a gap in the door.
“Come on,” Vince tugged her hand with slightly more force. And then, as if recalling something, he smiled. His fingers reached forward to stroke her hair before cupping her face. “It’s been a while since I took you to bed,” he murmured softly, tugging at few locks of her hair with his fists.
Did Eva feel like sharing her body tonight? She didn’t think so – but the idea of asking herself whether she wanted it or not was still a foreign concept to her… so maybe she did want Vince to make love to her tonight. It was confusing, really. It felt something like a routine, an obligation. So questioning whether she wanted to felt a little weird – this wasn’t about want, was it? It just was.
But Vincent seemed to have ideas for tonight, so Eva supposed there wasn’t much to question. Besides, he was usually in a good mood the following day if she didn’t fuss about him pleasing himself with her body. It wasn’t that complicated, really.
“I’ll probably fall asleep right after we’re done,” Eva told him, knowing it was pointless to add that she already felt somewhat exhausted. “So let me just check on Lil–”
“Evelyn,” he groaned softly and his mouth turned down a fraction at the corners, but his fists tightened around the locks of her hair still in his grasp, “tonight’s been perfect so far. Don’t ruin it.” Eva’s scalp felt the slightest tremor of pain. Vincent wasn’t angry yet – but he would get there. “I’ll make you feel good,” he promised, releasing her hair and gripping her wrists instead, pulling her into their room. “I always do, don’t I? You’ll stop worrying and feel better once I give you a release.”
When Eva’s clothes came off and were tossed to the floor, she carefully avoided the part of the mirror that was in her line of sight. She didn’t want to catch a glimpse of her naked self. She’d seen enough women to know she didn’t really have the body it took to please a man – but then she met Vincent’s eyes and his smile, and there was a rush of emotion in her chest. Vincent always wanted her body, always claimed it as his – in his eyes, Eva was desirable. She couldn’t fathom how. What was it about her that drew Vincent? What was it in her that made him stay?
She felt his hands roam her body, felt his mouth follow. He hadn’t cut his nails recently, and ever so often Eva would flinch when Vincent accidently dragged them down her skin too hard. At first, he seemed slow and cautious but eventually there was more teeth than tongue, more nails than fingers, more yanking than stroking. Eva closed her eyes, not bothering to respond. Vincent usually preferred her still and unresponsive as he had his way. And if he did want something specifically, he’d tell her what to do – where to touch him, where to kiss him. He seemed satisfied with being on top of her for now – his weight pouring into Eva’s small frame, his one hand pinning both her wrists above her head, his teeth at her neck and his hips slamming into hers. Again and again and again.
Eva closed her eyes and thought of summer blue. It was the sky and it ran endless above her, like there was a sea floating. She inhaled deeply and then exhaled what she hoped was the pain. When she took in her next breath, it wasn’t the slight tinge of sweat from the body above hers – but the salt from the beach. When she strained her ears hard enough, it wasn’t the grunting from the body making its way inside hers – but the waves rushing up to the shore. The beads of perspiration that fell upon her skin from the head buried in her chest was just the spray of water that the wind carried over.
When Vincent groaned out and filled Eva with his own release, he leant forward and kissed her roughly. “You belong to me,” he gasped out, his breathing so heavy. “Mine – you’re mine. Nobody can ever love you like this, baby. Nobody can love you like me.” He kissed her again, hard and crushing, his hips bruising hers with the way they dug into her waistline.
Eva’s eyes slowly opened and the summer blue faded into the dark of the room.
She was at home, trapped in a bed with a man who loved her – and free only inside her head, on that make-believe beach.
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Written on; 09th May 2019
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