Page 84 of Antiletum

But all positive thoughts flee like a flock of frightened birds when I open the door to our apartments, step into the foyer, and find my wife, pale and appalled, between Selise and Mallin. A letter is clutched in her shaking hands.

Fuck.

Mallin glares at me with an unsettling amount of disappointment. Selise is nothing short of thunderstruck. No one needs to speak for me to know exactly what that letter says.

Delaney’s wide, bewildered eyes meet mine. Gutted. “Tabitha?”

The one simple name in the form of a shaky question throws a bucket of ice over all the progress I thought I might have been making.

I forgot about Tabitha.

With a deep breath, I collect myself, trying to calm my nerves, and simply say, “Yes.”

Delaney releases herself from Mallin and Selise, hurrying away with a hand to her stomach, as if she’s trying to physically hold herself together. As if she can’t bear to be in my presence.

“Delaney!” I call, panicked, rushing after her, throwing the croquet mallet into a corner of the room. “Wait! Just—just wait.”

“Stop,” she demands quietly, turning to me only long enough to say, “Whatever excuse you think you have, Val, I don’t want to hear it.”

Delaney starts walking away again.

I follow. Gently, I cuff her upper arm, keeping her close, not letting her go. “She was hurting you,” I hastily explain, ignoring Delaney’s request to not do just that. I have to make her understand.

“I don’t care,” Delaney says softly, continuing her retreat despite my hold on her, pulling me along with her.

I don’t let her go—I refuse—following her steps, holding her in my grasp. Terrified of what might happen if our physical connection breaks. “Please. Just listen to me. All of these people—Tabitha, your parents, Rainah—they were hurting you! They were all hurting you and they had to stop. How can you not see that?”

I’m about to speak again, but Delaney offers me her voice that I need like oxygen. Like food, water, and sunlight. Everything that a living thing requires to survive. I’m nothing but a withering house plant, waiting for her sustenance.

My wife frees herself from my hold with a harsh jerk. “Youare hurting me, Valledyn.”

That single, simple sentence flips my world upside down, draining all the color from life. Sucking all joy into a void to never be reached again. It’s so quiet. Broken. Obviously true.

“No,” I vehemently deny outwardly. Like I could make either one of us believe it. My face is fuzzy and cold. “I have never hurt you, Delaney. Iwouldnever hurt you. Everything I have done is to protect you.”

“You told me I’m blind. Look at yourself.” She sounds so defeated, all that pretty fire vacated from her voice, from her eyes. Same as it had been when she first came to the manor, when I finally brought us together.

The lack of bite, of fight, that’s far more concerning, more terrifying, than the times she yelled or cried or threw parasols at me.

My heart races so rapidly I feel sick.

“No.” The sound of that word—again—it’s not enough. Especially with how weak and uncertain it sounds, even to my own ears. It needs to be more. I need to saymore, to make her understand. But I can’t formulate what I need to convey, all eloquence evaporating like a puddle in the cruel, draining sun.

“All I want is for you to be happy and safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. That’s all I ever intended.” My voice shakes and I struggle to breathe, my wife’s sad form blurring in my vision.

My wilted little flower.

I can nurture her in all the ways she does me. Iwill.

But Delaney doesn’t respond. She only gives me a long, suffering look before she retires to her room, the door snicking shut softly, taking all meaning of life with her.

22

Do you mind? I’m in the bath

Delaney

Nothing feels real.