37. Chapter Thirty-Seven

The sun isn't up when I open my eyes. I can tell by the dim light in the room that it's starting, but not quite there. I never wake up this early. Never. Though, now that I recall, I did go to sleep much earlier than usual. Right after dinner, actually.

I found myself sitting at the dining room table, waiting for Enzo. He said he would try to make it home for dinner and I waited for him. He never showed.

So that's what my life will be? Me waiting for him to come home. Me sitting around, wasting my life away—waiting. Wondering if he's dead or alive, because that crossed my mind.

With mixed opinions too.

Would I be happy if he died? I'd get my freedom. But he's Enzo. I've always cared for him in a familial type of way. Like an uncle, maybe. I don't want him to die.

When I finished eating last night, I sat at the table for a while. I drank an entire bottle of wine myself. Then I waited some more. Still, he didn't show, so I went to my room and fell asleep, feeling like a fool.

I roll over to glance at the clock to check the time. Breakfast is served at 7:30 sharp, but if I have enough time to take a bath, that's what I'm doing.

Only I can't see my clock, because there's a unicorn in the way of it. I push myself up, and reach out to grab it, making sure it's really there and I haven't gone crazy. A unicorn is what I would see if I lost my mind.

It definitely is there, so I pick it up, giving it a few squeezes. It's super soft—like a marshmallow. A glance back at the table tells me there's also a heart-shaped box of chocolates and an envelope.

A small smile plays on my lips.

Is this an apology for not showing up to dinner after he said he would? Would Enzo do something so sweet?

I pull the envelope from the box and slip my finger under the flap to pull the card out.

Along the top are foiled gold leaves, and a few foiled hearts spread out downward.

I open the card, and my stomach drops when I read the words.

At the top are two intertwined gold bands. Beneath it, the word Congratulations in the same gold foil. Below that are two inky-black hand-written words in a neat cursive.

It's official.

At the bottom, it's signed. A signature that holds no amount of emotion whatsoever.

Regards,

Your Husband—Enzo.

Regards.

He gives his regards? Like something you would send in a condolence card or in a business email. I suppose this could be considered a condolence card, couldn't it? My life is officially over.

I turn it over, a lick of hope that maybe this is a joke. Maybe there is something sweet about this, but I find nothing.

This is it.

Just a card to announce we're officially married.

I find myself disappointed. Not angry. Disappointed I'm not going to have the type of marriage I want. Disappointed Enzo isn't the sweet man I, for a second, thought he could be. That the hope flickering inside me is almost completely snuffed out.

I've never had to fight for what I wanted before, and maybe I'm not made to be that person. Maybe it's not who I am. It's who I want to be, though. I want to fight tooth and nail. I want to expel every bit of energy I have to piss off Enzo, to follow my plan of making his life hell while also somehow putting everything into making him trust me—because it totally makes sense to do both, right?

But I don't think I am that person.

I've never had to fight for anything before and I don't think I want to fight for this.

What's the point?