CONTAINS CONTENT:
Brief strong language, adult topics and themes, a scene of abuse.
{{Unedited}}
Marielle was brushing her teeth when Austin rested his temple on the doorframe, he stood watching her for a moment in adoration.
She spit, rinsed, and looked back at him. “What?”
“Okay, so no tricks, but I didn’t know that this was happening.” He left that hanging in the air.
“What?” Marielle glowered at him.
He thumbed over his right shoulder, indicating his parents. “They’re going away for the evening to spend some holiday time with some friends. I promise you it wasn’t something that I knew about.” Marielle sighed heavily, and crossed her arms, rolling her eyes at him as she tried – and failed – to quell a smile. “So that means that we have the house to ourselves for the night… They’ll be back tomorrow morning because the Warren’s are over two hours away.” He stepped into the bathroom with a sly smile. “So, I was thinking…” He rolled his bottom lip in for a moment, but in that moment, his mind revealed way too much. She didn’t catch it all, but something to the effect of, -that I’d make mad passionate love to you for a few hours and promise to satisfy you as much as you want, then we cuddle in front of the big fire and watch movies with some tea or coffee or hot chocolate or whatever you’d like, darling… only to go and do it all over again. Her green eyes widened as she grinned vivaciously. He popped his head back out at her, as color filled his cheeks and he closed his eyes and scrunched his face up abashedly. “Sorry, I’ll… try that again,” he stammered.
“At least you’re honest,” she giggled. Oh no, giggling again. Grrrr.
He bared his teeth and pulled the corners of his mouth down. “We have to run to the store for cat food. Patches is running low, but- I was thinking that we’d order some pizza. I know, not your favorite, but however you’d like it. Then I would genuinely love to finish Star Wars with you. Then we could talk for a while, have some pecan pie, play some video games, and go to bed.”
She smiled at him adoringly, “Yes, Austin. Let’s do that.”
She finished getting ready, they waved the Moretti’s off and told them to have fun, and got into their rental to head to the market.
There was a local store that didn’t have a familiar name that he took her to, and they wandered the aisles. “Ice cream?” he asked, gesturing to the many varieties.
“Ugh, please,” she begged looking over the cartons with him. He pulled some chocolate from the freezer and grabbed a jar of butterscotch on their way to the cat food aisle. “Have you ever played that game where you try and make the cashier blush?”
“You know, I think I might have actually played that one,” she noted, with a chuckle.
“What should we get to make them squirm?”
“A…cucumber, some duct tape, and vegetable oil,” she replied quickly.
He was in stitches; he went to his knees in the middle of the aisle. “I can’t breathe,” he choked out, flat on his back.
“You’re making a scene,” Marielle cackled, bending over him.
“You are a scene,” he snipped as he stood.
They laughed as he grabbed a few cans of cat food, and made their way to the front of the store. “Add in a five-hour energy to that list and I think we have a plan,” he chuckled into her ear. She snorted, and they knocked heads. She smacked him away in the arm. Then his smiled vanished entirely as his eyes landed on something – or someone – that he hadn’t expected behind the counter.
“Austin Michael Rancor…” a female voice said in a tone that was sweet, yet accusing.
Austin was pale as he met eyes with the checkout clerk. “Hello, Sarah,” he said, flatly. Marielle looked this woman over. The first thing that Marielle noted was that she was pretty, in a small-town way; small frame, long chestnut hair… yup, he’d slept with her. “Long time.”
“Too long,” she bit back, raising a curved brow. Her hazel eyes flicked to Marielle. “What’s this?” She asked.
Austin cracked a knuckle with his thumb. -What do I say?
-Tell her I’m your girlfriend.
“This is my girlfriend, Marielle.” The words hurt, physically at how true he wanted them to be.
Sarah laughed cruelly, her nose wrinkling a bit. “Girlfriend, huh?” She turned to Marielle and bobbed her head, all sass. “You and I both know how that goes.”
There was an awkward silence besides the beep of their items being scanned. Austin’s eyes flicked to each one as if willing them to go faster. “Kathy’s fine,” Sarah said flatly, and she glanced at Marielle. “She’ll be twelve soon.”
Austin’s face grew paler.
-Oh, God, Austin. Tell me that isn’t your daughter.
He swallowed hard; Marielle could see his Adam’s apple bob. -Sarah told me that she wasn’t. I think she’s just trying to hurt you.
There was silence again but an expression that she offered Marielle confirmed Austin’s suspicions that the remark was to throw Marielle.
Marielle paled as well; Sarah had been upset that he’d left shortly after… for the last twelve years. This was awkward. So, Marielle decided to play her game. “Ever find out who the father was?” She asked Sarah flatly. Austin raised his brows in stunned silence, pride etching his face. That was good.
Sarah gave her a wry smile, flicked her eyes to Austin, then looked down at the cash register. “Nineteen eighty-one,” she said, digging something out of her teeth. “Paper or plastic?”
-Pay and leave quickly.
Austin gave her a look, -Why?
–Cause I’m going to do something.
-What?
-Trust me, Austin.
Austin passed her a twenty, grabbed the bags, and stomped off, not giving Sarah a second look.
Sarah handed Marielle the change, and glared at her. “Thanks,” Marielle said in a saccharine tone. Then she rushed to Austin where she paused, laced their fingers together, and when he turned to question her, she planted a kiss on his face so close to his lips that it looked like she kissed him from Sarah’s point of view.
He pulled back and smiled at her with shock and pride. -I love you, darling.
She grinned at him, laid her head on his shoulder, and they kept walking, leaving Sarah behind without a thought.
However, once they were in the car, silence engulfed them, and Austin let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that she worked there.”
The noiseless space sounded like screaming to both. “We’re always going to be bumping into your past, aren’t we, Austin? If not an actual person…” her voice trailed off. He put his hand to his chin and looked out the window. “You slept with her.”
“Yeah.”
Marielle’s chest burned with anger. “Was it good?” she sniped.
He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. “I don’t even remember.”
“Oh, that feels nice.”
His face jerked back and he opened a hand. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you want me to recall the entire event? Should I tell you every vivid detail and how she was on her knees begging me?” Marielle caught a sob inside of a choke and hid her face with both hands. His hand reflexively went to his aching heart where he pressed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, feeling the pain he’d caused in her chest. He gripped at his own heart, feeling the heat, and the burning there that was hers. He turned to her. “No, no… I didn’t want this, I’m sorry,” he breathed. She kept back from him. “Darling…” He reached up and tried to brush some of her hair back behind her ear. She pushed his hand away and buried her face in the car seat.
He looked up to see Sarah, apparently on her break with a cigarette watching the two of them. “Fuck you,” he mouthed, giving her the double bird with his thumbs as well.
She gave him a proud smirk. “You did,” she mouthed taking a drag and blowing the smoke into the air.
He started the car and pulled out and back to the road ignoring Sarah. There was a good four minutes of silence as Marielle cried and Austin rubbed at the side of his temple experiencing the pain that was slowly creeping up the side of her head. “I am so sorry, darling.”
“Stop calling me darling. I’m not yours.”
He leaned his temple into his fingers, defeated and rubbed them over his eyebrow before dragging them down his face and briefly glancing into his palm. “Do you need some time alone?”
“Yes.”
He nodded, and when they pulled up to the house, he let her run in, run to his bedroom, slam the door.
The reality that he’d left her alone to put the ice cream away didn’t change the fact that he could still hear and feel her. Her sobs were racking his chest, causing his ribs to tighten and his mind to numb.
She was angry, too. He could feel the rage boiling inside of her and another feeling that he wasn’t sure that he understood. It was jealousy at its core, but it was backed by something more intense… rage. Marielle wanted to kill Sarah. He swallowed hard, looking around the kitchen, his eyes landing on the block of knives. A dark thought crossed his mind as his eyes zeroed in on the biggest blade. -We could both do it. He grabbed at his hair. -Holy shit…And he rushed out to the back to chop firewood until he wasn’t seeing red anymore.
Austin had wanted this to be a perfect day with Marielle. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. She was meant to be laughing, and joyously throwing her head back. Her smile was meant to be plastered onto her face. Why had this happened? He split a log with the axe. Why had they run into Sarah? He split another. What cruel joke was fate playing? He split a bigger one. He felt murderous. He tore the one that didn’t split in two with his hands and dropped the pieces to the ground before falling to his knees and letting out a guttural yell. He hated himself.
“Easy, tiger,” a familiar voice calmed him. “The log didn’t do anything to you.”
He turned to Marielle; eyes full of irate tears. “I hate myself,” he said out loud.
“I know,” she replied, going to him, bending, and beginning to pick up the log pieces. She gestured with her head for him to do the same to the bigger bits of wood. He did. She sniffled. “But I don’t hate you,” she added as she led the way back to the house. “Now come light the fire with me. You promised me dinner and a movie and I’ve come to collect,” she said, straightening her back as she stopped at the door.
He cocked his head at her, his ever-gentle nature returning. “Are you angry with me, darling?” he breathed.
“Yes,” she seethed. Then she straightened a little as well and flashed him a diminutive smile. “Now help me to be less angry with you.”
He nodded, understanding and they went in and started the fire. It roared, hissed, and crackled, and they sat on the couch at opposite ends, both staring at the flames in silence. “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” he growled between his fingers.
“Pain is like that… it opens you up when you don’t want it to. It’s well intentioned, but it doesn’t understand what it does,” she said, flatly. He couldn’t argue with that. “It’s a beautiful fire.”
“It reminds me of Italy,” he said, softly. She nodded, agreeing. She was thinking about that night, too; how she’d taken the chocolate from the doughnut, dragged it across his full lips, and kissed him to his shock and adoration.
A minute or two of deafening silence past between them. “I only want you,” he breathed, staring into nothing.
She didn’t respond to that and when the silence was too overbearing, he went to the piano and quietly played.
She sat listening to him gently plink out Baby it’s Cold Outside and calming as she watched the crackling fire, and stared at the pretty Christmas tree.
-Has your family always put up the tree before Thanksgiving?
Austin straightened a bit at her voice in his head. -Yeah, it’s always gone up around the twentieth. She snuggled into a throw on the couch, making herself a cocoon of warmth and comfort. -That could be me, darling.
-I’m okay with the blanket for now.
-That’s fine. He stopped playing and looked at her for a moment. “Do you want lunch? I thought pizza would be good for dinner.”
The thought of food was twisting her stomach. -I don’t feel like eating.
“Or talking?”
-Not right now.
His chest deflated. “I am so sorry.”
“You can’t change your past,” She replied quickly.
“I meant about what I said in the car.” He looked at her sadly. “I felt how much that one hurt. It was wrong.” He whirled on the piano bench and their eyes locked. “Tame me,” he whispered. She flicked her gaze back to his and his chest hurt from how red her eyes were.
He came off the bench and back to the couch, where he sat a few feet from her, but leaned in a little to look up into her eyes. “Tame me, Marielle,” he rasped.
“We’re not playing that game right now,” she whispered, avoiding his powerful gaze despite how her insides had twisted.
He felt it, too. “What game would you like to play, Marielle?” he asked, his eyes looking over at a bookshelf where half a dozen dusty board games lived.
“I said that I didn’t want to talk. I need time to adjust, understand, and evaluate.”
“How long are you going to stay mad at me?” he asked and when he did, he was narrowing his eyes at her playfully. She avoided this, but couldn’t stop from smiling. “How long?” he asked in a sing song tone.
“Twenty-five minutes,” she replied, looking at the clock on the wall to time herself. They both chuckled silently. “Now I will give you a command.” He leaned in a bit, interested. “Go to the piano and play for me. Let my mind ease. I don’t want to speak to you until then. Then I will be different and we’ll continue to speak.” He nodded and obeyed her. “I love when you play classic,” she whispered, her eyes distant and glassy.
He smiled softly as he continued Mozart. He played so beautifully that for a moment she melted into the notes, forgetting anything and everything that had occurred in the last hour.
Stretching across the couch, she wrapped herself in the warmth of the blanket and closed her eyes, picturing colorful falling droplets that kept in time with his playing. He closed his eyes and watched them as his mind joined with hers. It was beautiful like Fantasia; he was enamored. -We’re so beautiful together. He said breathlessly, as he watched the luminated colored drops in his head.
She didn’t reply.
Twenty-five minutes passed and she cleared her throat. He turned on the bench and eyed her. “Will you speak with me now, darling?”She nodded, once. “Will you eat? I think you’re hungry.” He said, patting his own stomach. “Why won’t you eat?”
“I’ll eat if you eat.” She was reminded again of Italy and how she’d only realized that she was hungry and needed food when he did.
He stood and went to the kitchen. There were plenty of leftovers, so he heated up some mashed potatoes and gravy in the microwave and brought them out to her in a bowl with a spoon. He took a bite, then gave her one, then again and again. “Are you still angry?”
“Truthfully, yes.”
“I really shouldn’t have said that,” Austin sighed.
“I really shouldn’t have pushed… you said that you didn’t remember. I should have left it at that. You were telling the truth.”
“I remember doing it, I just didn’t remember how it made me feel.”
“I understand, Austin.”
“I’ve hurt us.”
“It was unavoidable,” she replied and they were silent as he fed her. They watched the fire for a moment, her insides stirring as she sensed his desire to kiss her. The fire was perfect, the room was alive with warm, holiday feelings. It was all so serene. She wanted to ruin the perfection for a few more moments and really dig into the pain. “Why do you think we failed?”
He pulled the spoon from his mouth and narrowed his eyes at her. “When?”
“In Vincent’s world.”
He set the bowl on the coffee table and rubbed his hands together. “To be honest, I don’t really want to talk about that.”
“Really? I thought that you’d be all over wanting to talk about that.”
He flashed her a look. “I’d rather talk about why we succeeded.” She cocked her head at him inquisitively; obviously not understanding. “We only failed in Vincent’s world. We were happy in the others. Seeing the one from the other night was confirmation of that.”
She considered his words for a moment in silence. “You don’t wonder what happened? Why we failed?”
His expression conveyed vague annoyance. “I know why we failed. It’s not something that I need to explore…”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a selfish, inconsiderate prick with an unhealthy obsession, who thought you were my property and used you to soothe my problems and when it tempered a little and some of its initial power on me faded, I became violent, aggressive, and insistent. I used you like a drug, and like a drug my first hits were the best, and after that I needed more to be satisfied. I fell head first into my anxiety and addiction and let myself sink to a point that my only anchor was you. So, I used you over and over and over again, and sadly you let me for a time because you love-” he jerked to a stop. “Because she loved him, and because this connection is impossible to sever, we can’t free the other. I didn’t allow it to teach me empathy, instead I became more controlling and aggressive.”
“How do you know?” She narrowed her eyes inquisitively.
He rolled his hand for a moment as if trying to push the words out. “Let’s just say I saw it in his eyes. I had a nightmare about a week ago, Marielle. It was…” he shuddered at the memory. “It felt real.”
“Tell me?”
“I can’t tell you,” he said shakily, squeezing his fingertips into his palms. “But I can show you,” he whispered raising his trembling hands to place on the side of her head, but he paused, looking at her to see if she’d allow him to. She nodded, curiosity overcoming her fear. He placed his hands gently on her face.
***
Blurred images formed and she saw an unfamiliar bedroom, him on top of her, holding her to the mattress while his body pressed into hers painfully. She was crying, “Austin… Austin, please you’re hurting me…”
“You’ll do as I say. You want this as much as I do,” he growled back, pressing in harder.
“I do, I want you,-” it sounded like her trying to placate him, “-but you’re hurting me, please stop,” she begged, forcing a smile at him through pained, tear-streaked eyes.
“Marielle, this doesn’t hurt, come on,” he insisted.
“It does,” she sobbed, her face wrenching in agony. “You know it does!”
His eyes were wicked, fixed. “Then be a good girl and give me what I want.”
“Austin, please, I’m tired… I’m so tired.”
“Darling,” he said through gritted teeth, his grip going to her neck, and tightening. “I need you to respect me, right now. I’m your husband and I demand respect.”
“Austin, please,” she sobbed and now she was trying to get free of his bruising, air constricting grip. “I respect you!” She clawed at his arm to no avail, he just pressed in harder. “I’m so tired,” she whimpered, “I’m so tired.” It was barely words.
“You’re not showing me. Masin! Do as you’re told!” He barked, but then his eyes filled with tears as the addiction was realized in him. “I just need a little…”
“I’ve already done this for you… please, stop. I’m begging you, Austin. I’ll do anything else…” The expression on her face was mortifying. She was trying to force herself to appear seductive through intense pain and exhaustion, “anything,” the promise was laced with depravity.
“Marielle, you’re being a bad girl…” He was reaching for his belt.
***
Marielle pulled away with a light shriek. Austin’s eyes were rimmed with tears that weren’t falling. “You…” she fought for words through her own tears. “Would you do that to me, Austin?”
He rolled his lips in and looked away for a moment, refusing to let those tears fall. “I don’t know,” he whispered. She turned her head, shocked. He lifted a hand as if to correct himself. “My instinct is no, but I don’t know how or why he got there and because we’re the same person I-”
“Would you… do that to me, Austin?”
He shook his head, deciding. “No, there’s no excuse for that.” He reached out, momentarily tucking his lip in as he shakily reached for her hand. “I won’t do that to you; not ever.” He took her hand in his and squeezed, making sure that she was looking into his eyes, “I promise.” It was genuine. “I promise.” He drew her against him, holding her close to his heart. She didn’t resist. -Oh, darling this is where you belong. He swallowed down the lump in his throat. It went down dry. “I’m not him. I’m not Tundra. I won’t hurt you like that. I don’t need you to give me what I want. Sometimes I want it, but your refusal has taught me not to demand. I told you in Italy, just because I’m the only one that you can do that with doesn’t mean that it’s for me.”
“I – I can do it with Vincent,” she whispered shakily.
He pulled back enough to look down at her with a strange mixture of emotions stirring inside of him. The first was shock, the next was rage, then it tempered quickly and jealousy began to swirl inside of him. “What?” he asked in a low whisper.
She put her face into her hands. “The other day, it- it started to happen. It was little more than the edge of a knife; I couldn’t go any further. We were both shocked.”
“But you couldn’t go through?” She shook her head. “What changed?”
“I don’t exactly know, but my guess? He was being vulnerable and truthful… and…” She sighed. She felt a bit dizzy and held onto him like he was her anchor.
“I’ve got you, Marielle.”
She squeezed the fabric on his sleeve. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. The truth remains- you’re the only person I’ve been able to really do that with. I can’t hear his thoughts or anything.” He let out a ragged breath that she was sure was relief, although he did a good job of hiding it. “I need to lay back down,” she whispered, and he helped her, gently putting her back to the couch. For a moment, he loomed over her, wanting to break every contract, every promise he’d made to her, bend, kiss her passionately, and let his hands roam as he pulled her up against him and… “Sorry, my thoughts are loud right now.” He backed away.
“You’re not helping with the dizzy,” she said. He chuckled at her weird word choice. “Read to me?” she begged.
He smiled at her, rushed up the stairs, retrieved the journal, and came back down with Patches on his heels having been woken up from his nap. Austin sat on the couch, cracked his journal open and poured his heart out to her for another hour. Patches joined him, resting against his thigh. Finally, Austin stopped. “Uh, I’ve run out of PG rated ones,” he said with a lip bite directed at her.
She laughed and waved him on as if telling him that she didn’t mind. “I actually think it’d be interesting hearing you quote one to me.”
His cheeks reddened. “Okay.” He did so, and not even halfway through, she pulled the blanket over her head again, disappearing. “I can do this weird magic trick where I seem to be able to make the love of my life disappear. If not through my very body, under some covers. Dai! lascia che ti veda,” he purred, trying for a knee to squeeze. He found one and she bucked and laughed. “Voglio vedere la tua faccia quando capirai come voglio fare l’amore con te.”
“I don’t speak Italian!” She squealed.
He grinned smugly, then adoringly. “No… but you want me to.”
“What did you say?” She asked pulling the blanket back down again.
He tucked his lip into his grin for a moment, “I said that I wanted to see your face when you understood how I wanted to make love to you.”
“Austin.” She hid again.
“You can hide inside of me if you want.”
She growled, frustratedly. She wanted that too. He smirked, knowingly. She stared up at the white fabric separating them.
“I’m such a fool… my intentions were so dark when I came there. I went to Valorant ready to say or do anything and everything to get you and you just… you were so fixed on Vincent. I treated you like something to own or possess.”
“I never felt that way.”
“No, but I meant it.” He looked distant for a moment. “What do I have to do to make you want me?”
“I did want you.”
“Yeah… but I only wanted your body, and that’s sick. I’m sorry, Marielle.” He leaned over her hidden frame. “Will you forgive me for my intentions?”
“I forgave you a long time ago, Austin. I always knew who and what you were and what you were trying to do.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Then why did you still engage?”
“You know why.”
“I want to hear you say it…” She was silent. “We could… we could just say it. We’ve already done everything else. We’ve even said it before.” She threw the blanket off with an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry, I won’t push you anymore. But once again I find myself a desperate man… terrified of the future that’s not that far off. You never want to speak to me again; do you know how that feels?”
“Well,” she smiled softly. “Maybe text me on my birthday.”
His eyes glistened, understanding the implications. His birthday, too. –Happy birthday, darling… I still love you. “Every year for the rest of my life…” he whispered with a sad smile.