Almost a week had passed since that awkward, conversation...our defining conversation—and living in this compound was slowly draining the life out of me. The days blurred together and other than the maids, the house felt empty....Like a museum everyone had abandoned except me.
Vincent usually left before dawn and returned long after midnight. I hardly ever saw him. And even if I did… we didn't even talk?
This wasn't the life I wanted for myself.
Tonight, though, I'd forced myself to stay awake and wait for him. I had some things that I needed to tell him.
The first terrified me.
For the last two days, I'd been nauseous. The smell of anything cooking made my stomach flip violently and if Iwas not wrong, those were early signs of pregnancy. Part of me tried to dismiss it, but… every sign pointed to the same thing.
I think I was pregnant.
And the thought made my chest tighten with fear.
The second thing was about my own personal life. If I continued to stay behind this walls alone, I would definitely go crazy. I needed to find myself a job.
****
It was hours past midnight when Vincent finally came home. I watched him slip out of his coat and drop it onto the sofa and on cue, I stood up and approached him.
"Could we talk?"
Without having to look at me as his focus was on the screen of his phone, he asked flatly, "What is it?"
I waited until he finally lifted his gaze, meeting mine.
"I've been thinking… and I don't think sitting around all day doing nothing is good for me. I want to look for a job."
I watched him as he walked past me and made his way towards the cellar where he poured himself a drink and took a gulp.
"And why would you need to work?" he asked, "Am I not providing everything for you?"
"You are," I said softly, "but—"
"Then there's no point in you working." He interrupted. "You need something, you ask for it."
His voice hit harder than it should have. As if my desire for a life of my own was an inconvenience to him. I parted my lips, ready to tell him the other thing, but something in me stopped.
I could not bring myself to tell him when he looked so irritated and with how obvious it was that he wanted nothing to do with me, I doubted if he would even be happy if I was actually pregnant.
"I will start applying for jobs—" I continued, steadying my voice even though my heart pounded but he cut me off instantly.
"You will not be working." He said with a serious tone.
"All that's needed from you is to be by my side when required… and to look pretty. Okay?"
Before I could respond, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, jaw tightening, and without a single word to me, he walked out of the house to take the call.
On standing there for what felt like forever, waiting for Vincent to walk back through that door, I finally gave up. It didn't seem like he would be coming back any time soon.
I forced my feet to move, ascending the stairs to my room with a heaviness I couldn't shake. I hadn't told Vivian about the possibility of me being pregnant, but we had been talking, almost every day. If there was one person I trusted with my entire life, it was her. She was the only thing keeping me sane in this house.
And the more I told her about what was happening… the more I realized she was right not to like him. I was starting to feel it too. Vincent pushed me away every chance he got, and somehow still expected me to orbit his world like I had nowhere else to go. He wanted to hold me still while his life moved freely. Like I should be grateful.
It terrified me how familiar it all felt.
My dad started out the same way. Small rules that grew into bigger ones. And then it reached to a point where he physically abused my mother. I was too young to help out back then and now as I am all grown up, I carried the guilt of having to watch my mother drown into depression until she finally killed herself.
I will not live that life again.
I will not let my child .... if I'm truly pregnant — ever be near that history repeating itself.
I needed to leave.
Before this house swallowed me whole.
Before Vincent's indifference turned into something worse.
These were red flags I refused to ignore.
And I wasn't going to stay long enough to see how bad it could get.