Read Online Saviours of Oestend Oestend 2 by Marie Sexton - Free Book Online
Authors: Marie Sexton
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I’d be able to protect her after that. It sounds stupid, but it seemed so right in my head. We’d be married, and after that, everything would be fine.”
It was hard to admit how naïve he’d been. He’d honestly thought being married would fix it. He’d thought the light would come back into her eyes. He thought she’d remember how to laugh.
“Our wedding night was…” He found his hands were shaking, and he had to stop and breathe deep. She’d been stiff in his arms as he’d kissed her. He’d been so gentle, and so patient, but when he finally began to undo the buttons on the back of her gown, she’d become hysterical. She’d screamed in terror and flailed at him with her fists. “No, no, no!” she’d cried over and over again. Her blows had been weak at best. Her fear of him was what hurt.
“It was a disaster,” he said at last. “But I understood. I swore I’d be patient. That it was fine if we took our time. We moved into the house her father had bought us as our wedding present. It was tiny, but it was more than I could afford on my own. There were two bedrooms, one for us, I thought, and one for the babies we’d have. But it turned out she’d had one set up for her and the other for me. After what had happened, how could I argue? I figured, it was just a matter of time before she started to feel safe. I could be patient.”
Yes, he’d wanted to be patient, but days had turned into weeks, and weeks had turned into months, and still he’d been barred from her room every night. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst was the way she’d pulled even further away. It was as if she hated him for desiring her. She wouldn’t look at him. She’d barely speak to him. At supper, they’d sit at the table together, and she’d stare silently down at her plate. She rarely ate. He began to notice how her clothes hung on her frame.
In the weeks leading up to the wedding, he’d imagined comforting her, but he’d assumed he’d be allowed to touch her. Not sexually at first, but at the very least to hold her in his arms. But as the days of their marriage ticked by, she began to pull away from the simplest of touches. If he tried to kiss her, she’d get angry. Even a hand on her wrist would cause her to pull away as if stung.
“I’ll be patient,” he’d told her again and again. “I can wait.”
But waiting was easier said than done.
“The thing is,” he said, finally picking up his story, “I was barely nineteen. I know that’s a flimsy excuse, but Saints, I was getting desperate.” He thought suddenly about who he was talking to, and he almost laughed. “Hell, you’re about that age now. You know what I mean.”
“Boy, do I ever.”
Frances’ answer really did make him laugh, if only for a moment. It helped him face the truth of what came next.
“Well, there was this girl, Jin. She and Lena had been good friends before it all, but by this point, Lena didn’t really have any friends. She didn’t talk to anybody, and Jin stuck around the longest, but she didn’t know how to help any more than I did. They’d been friends since they was girls, and Jin told me how she couldn’t bear to see Lena just sitting there, like an empty shell.
“Anyway, one night, Jin came over and we talked. And then another night. And another night, too.”
“Oh,” Frances breathed. It wasn’t even a word so much as a sound of realisation. A sigh that meant, “Oh no, I see what’s coming.”
Simon went on as if he hadn’t heard, because he was near the end now. He was almost through to the other side where he’d be able to breathe again. “Well, then one night she came over with this bottle of cherry wine. We drank that, and when it was gone, we started on some whisky. And then…”
It hadn’t even been that he’d desired her. She wasn’t attractive. What had done him in was simply the fact that she was so unbelievably willing . After so many times of Lena pushing him back, turning away, closing
It was hard to admit how naïve he’d been. He’d honestly thought being married would fix it. He’d thought the light would come back into her eyes. He thought she’d remember how to laugh.
“Our wedding night was…” He found his hands were shaking, and he had to stop and breathe deep. She’d been stiff in his arms as he’d kissed her. He’d been so gentle, and so patient, but when he finally began to undo the buttons on the back of her gown, she’d become hysterical. She’d screamed in terror and flailed at him with her fists. “No, no, no!” she’d cried over and over again. Her blows had been weak at best. Her fear of him was what hurt.
“It was a disaster,” he said at last. “But I understood. I swore I’d be patient. That it was fine if we took our time. We moved into the house her father had bought us as our wedding present. It was tiny, but it was more than I could afford on my own. There were two bedrooms, one for us, I thought, and one for the babies we’d have. But it turned out she’d had one set up for her and the other for me. After what had happened, how could I argue? I figured, it was just a matter of time before she started to feel safe. I could be patient.”
Yes, he’d wanted to be patient, but days had turned into weeks, and weeks had turned into months, and still he’d been barred from her room every night. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst was the way she’d pulled even further away. It was as if she hated him for desiring her. She wouldn’t look at him. She’d barely speak to him. At supper, they’d sit at the table together, and she’d stare silently down at her plate. She rarely ate. He began to notice how her clothes hung on her frame.
In the weeks leading up to the wedding, he’d imagined comforting her, but he’d assumed he’d be allowed to touch her. Not sexually at first, but at the very least to hold her in his arms. But as the days of their marriage ticked by, she began to pull away from the simplest of touches. If he tried to kiss her, she’d get angry. Even a hand on her wrist would cause her to pull away as if stung.
“I’ll be patient,” he’d told her again and again. “I can wait.”
But waiting was easier said than done.
“The thing is,” he said, finally picking up his story, “I was barely nineteen. I know that’s a flimsy excuse, but Saints, I was getting desperate.” He thought suddenly about who he was talking to, and he almost laughed. “Hell, you’re about that age now. You know what I mean.”
“Boy, do I ever.”
Frances’ answer really did make him laugh, if only for a moment. It helped him face the truth of what came next.
“Well, there was this girl, Jin. She and Lena had been good friends before it all, but by this point, Lena didn’t really have any friends. She didn’t talk to anybody, and Jin stuck around the longest, but she didn’t know how to help any more than I did. They’d been friends since they was girls, and Jin told me how she couldn’t bear to see Lena just sitting there, like an empty shell.
“Anyway, one night, Jin came over and we talked. And then another night. And another night, too.”
“Oh,” Frances breathed. It wasn’t even a word so much as a sound of realisation. A sigh that meant, “Oh no, I see what’s coming.”
Simon went on as if he hadn’t heard, because he was near the end now. He was almost through to the other side where he’d be able to breathe again. “Well, then one night she came over with this bottle of cherry wine. We drank that, and when it was gone, we started on some whisky. And then…”
It hadn’t even been that he’d desired her. She wasn’t attractive. What had done him in was simply the fact that she was so unbelievably willing . After so many times of Lena pushing him back, turning away, closing
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