novelraw Chapter 51: You’re Cold
Chapter 51: You’re Cold
Chapter 51: You’re ColdPresent time...
Matthew
I pour a generous splash of whiskey into my glass, watching as the amber liquid swirls and catches the dim light.
A bitter laugh escapes my lips, triggered by the uninvited memory that invades my thoughts. What a liar she had been.
But it wasn’t solely that one lie. It was the web of deception that followed, each tightening the trap around me.
And the biggest one was...
I throw my head back and toss the whiskey in the back of my throat, welcoming the burn that follows.
No, I won’t think about that now. It was in the past, I tell myself that.
Back then, I had lost all control over Sarah and everything else. But now, I am in control and I won’t let her play me.
I set the glass down with deliberate care, fingers lingering on its smooth surface and wince as I remember again.
Pregnant. The word keeps repeating in my head like a damn curse.
I married her because I wanted to control the narrative this time and make her suffer. But her being pregnant now might change everything. Sarah always knew how to manipulate a situation to her advantage, and this—this felt like her masterpiece. Was it even true? Or just another carefully crafted scheme to keep me bound to her?
But it doesn’t make any sense. She already has me as her husband, so why would she fake being pregnant now? To gain sympathy? To win my love?
God, I am so confused!
I stand up suddenly, feeling the need to see her.
Our bedroom door is slightly ajar, so I push it open.
"Sarah?" My voice sounds foreign in the emptiness of the room.
She is not here.
"Oh, Matthew."
I turn to face Marishka, who stands there holding a basket of laundry. "Are you looking for Sarah?" she asks.
"Yes, where is she?" I try to keep my voice steady.
"I saw her going to the back garden. She said she needed to go get some fresh air," Marishka offers.
I nod curtly before I turn and head toward the back garden. The cool air hits my face as I step outside, the faint smell of flowers and fresh earth mixing with the tension in my chest. My eyes scan the garden,
Stubborn woman.
"Fine. Freeze out here if you want," I snap and hurry back inside.
I slam the backdoor behind me, the sound echoing through the house like a gunshot. My hands are shaking with anger—or is it something else?
I can’t help but look out the window again. Sarah is still there, her slender figure now hunched against the growing chill.
Why the hell is she insisting on being cold?
"Dammit," I mutter under my breath.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’m climbing the stairs to the linen closet, yanking open the door with more force than necessary. The shelves are meticulously organized—Marishka’s doing, no doubt. I grab the thickest blanket I can find, a soft, plush thing.
I stand there for a moment, blanket clutched in my hands, battling with myself. I should just let her freeze. That’d teach her to be stubborn and defiant.
I go downstairs and find Marishka.
"Marishka." I clear my throat. "Sarah is still outside. Could you..." I thrust the blanket toward her, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. "Could you take this to her? It’s cold."
"Of course, Mr. Matthew," she says, taking the blanket from me. "Maybe I will make some hot chocolate. Sarah used to love it as a kid. Still does, in fact. Would you like to join us?"
I shake my head. "No thanks. I will be in my study. Just don’t let her catch a cold."