Page 66
Story: Unseen
“Amina Osman.”
Azriel’s face betrayed only the slightest hint of surprise at the name, and the corners of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. “And who is that?”
“You know very well who that is.”
“Rather strange sounding foreign name, should I know it?”
I hurled the serviette that had lain in my lap at his face. “God damn you, Azriel Caine, do not play games with me!”
He laughed, a deep and rumbling laugh, flashing his impossibly bright teeth at me. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Amina Osman. The little Turkish girl. The one whose medical bills you paid, who is only alive because of you.”
“Oh,thatAmina Osman, I see.” He shrugged again, and I swore to God at that moment that if he jerked his shoulders in that fashion one more time, I would stab him in the eye with my fork. “What of her?”
“You helped that family. You didn’t have to do that.” I threw my hands up, slumping in my chair. “Why will you not let me believe even in the tiniest fraction of good within you?”
“Because you will find none.” His tone had shifted completely. The smile was gone, and his face was thunderous. “You should not seek that which does not exist, Evie, it will only leave you disappointed.”
“But you helped-”
“I am not a good man.” His voice boomed across the expanse of the wood ceiling, echoing off the walls. “Good men are the ones who congratulate themselves when they open those hospitals, and think nothing of it that children die on the streets every day because their families cannot afford the care therein. Good men left that family destitute with barely a shilling to feed them. Good men like my father, who handed that street off to me because he hoped that my cruelty would extend to those beneath me.”
His eyes were blazing, and it was as though a door was being thrown open, a view into the soul of this man who sat before me with fists balled on the table.
“That is the only reason I was given those businesses, Evie,” he went on. “I was tasked with making the lives of the residents of White Horse Road as miserable as possible, and I refused to capitulate. Yet another failing in my father’s eyes. Yes, I paid for Amina Osman to get well again, because there are levels of depravity not even I will sink to, and watching an innocent child waste away due to disease is far, far beyond that.”
“You cared for that family.” I stared at him, my handsclutched to my chest, unsure of what to say or do in the face of this outpouring of passion.
Azriel shook his head and scoffed, pouring himself more wine. “I saw someone in a wretched position and felt compelled to assist them. That is all.”
“You did not have to, though.”
He gave me a side glance. “Be careful, Evie. You’ll fall in love with me if you keep down this path. Besides.” He took up his glass, and the grin was back. “Who told you of these wonderful tales of mine? For I am sure there are only a few people in Stepney who know of it, and none move in your circle.”
“It does not matter.” I brushed my hands over my skirt, taking a deep breath. “And you need not fear me falling in love with you, for it shall not happen.”
“As you say, beloved.” His brows pinched together for the briefest of moments, and he almost looked forlorn. But as quickly as the expression came, it passed, and he took a long drink of wine. “As long as you love our children, I do not care what you feel for me.”
Our children.
The thought made the floor fall out from under me. I had no intention of becoming pregnant, dutifully using the syringe every time we had been together. But panic began to creep in as I realised that next week we would be in close quarters as we travelled, and I worried that perhaps he would find out. And perhaps he would even make good on his threat.
The rest of our meal passed in silence. Once he had finished his meal, he rose to his feet, giving me a chaste kiss on my forehead, before leaving me alone in the room.
What a strange man I had married.
19
CLOSE ENOUGH TO TRUST
Thursday seemed to be the longest day of my life. It stretched on and on and on before me, the hours dragging by, marked by nothing but the incessant ticking of the grandfather clock and my own restless feet.
Nightfall brought with it a strange sort of frenzy, a desire for distraction, to forget all the things that lay ahead. I did not take my dinner with Azriel, wary of being too close to him, for fear of any of this nervous energy driving me to do something irrational.
He had not visited me the previous night, and I found myself strangely disappointed. I had fallen asleep staring at the door. Another sign that his affections were simply leaving me incapable of thinking straight.
But in the deep of the night, waiting for the sun to rise and to deliver my aunt to me, I found myself almost inconsolable with loneliness, and staring at that door once again. But it did not open.
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