But it’s like my mind won’t let me. My parents’ abandonment hurts too damn much on top of it all. I’d think I’d be used to it by now. This sort of thing has gone on my entire life, but no.
It still hurts. I do what they want. I get married to the man they—my father—chose for me, and he’s still not satisfied.
Nothing I do is right. I’m a failure.
I am.
The tears flow freely, soaking the front of Perry’s button up shirt. I’m sure he can feel them, but he doesn’t say anything. Just holds me close and keeps his mouth pressed to my forehead, offering up all that comfort he’s so good at delivering.
“I need to get over this,” I finally say after a few minutes of feeling sorry for myself.
“It’s only been a few weeks,” he reminds me, which feels like it’s been too long for me to wallow in my misery already. “Give yourself some time.”
“I’m tired of feeling scared all the time. Or feeling sorry for myself. I’m over it.” I pull away slightly so I can look him in the eyes. His gaze is full of concern, and I wonder if he ever regrets marrying me. He definitely didn’t sign up for this. “I want to be stronger.”
“You already are strong. I’ve told you before you’re the strongest woman I know,” he reassures me.
Pretty lies, all of the words he says. Delivered with a smooth tone and a kind smile. He knows how to sweet talk people. He does it for a living. Fairly certain that’s what he’s doing to me right now.
“I should take a shower.”
“Didn’t you just take one last night?” His brows lower.
“I feel gross.” I shrug one shoulder.
“You hungry? Want to eat something?” He’s as bad as Jasper, always trying to feed me. I’m surprised they haven’t taught Doja how to bring a bag of crackers to me yet.
“No.” I shake my head, offering him a weak smile. “I’ll take a shower first. Then I’ll try and eat.”
He tightens his grip on me when I try to make my escape. “You’re worrying me, Charlotte. You never eat.”
“I’m not very hungry,” I admit, my voice small.
“You’ve lost weight. You look thinner,” he says.
Perry doesn’t mean this as a compliment either. His voice is laced with concern.
“I haven’t had much of an appetite lately,” I admit.
He presses his lips together, and I can tell he wants to say something, but decides against it. Is he disappointed in me? Does he regret marrying me? With my behavior lately, I wouldn’t be surprised. “Take your shower. I have a call in five, but it’s a short one. Then we can eat together.”
Code for him watching me while I eat to make sure I consume something. “Sure. Okay.”
I withdraw from him but he grabs my hand, pulling me back in for a gentle kiss. I may be depressed, but the sex between us is still good, if not a little excessive. Not that I’m complaining but wow, we do it a lot. I didn’t know it could feel like this with someone. So all-consuming and leaving me feeling needy and restless.
“I hate seeing you sad,” he whispers against my lips before he kisses me again. “Did you ever look into seeing a therapist?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know if I’m ready to tell anyone else what happened to me yet.”
He says nothing to that, changing the subject. “Maybe we should go out of town this weekend. Just the two of us.”
I rest my hand on his chest, dragging my index finger down, along the buttons of his shirt. “Isn’t it Thanksgiving Thursday?”
“Oh wait. You’re right. My mother has called me multiple times, trying to get me to confirm we’ll be there for the holiday.”
“Why haven’t you told her yes? Not like my parents want me over.” Last I heard, they’re spending the holiday in St. Barts, according to Finn.
“Charlotte…” His voice drifts and I slowly withdraw from his hold, walking backward toward the bathroom.