BETWEEN CLOUDS AND STARS: A Sexy Standalone Romance (8 page)

“I gave you this bracelet as a gift at your christening,” Kimberley explained, running her fingers along the fine chain. “I don’t understand why Dr. Klide told us you’d died.” She looked up at her husband, who shook his head in disapproval.

“They must’ve lied to us so they could adopt her without our knowledge.”

What the fuck? What was this entire mess? Until today, these people were strangers. And now what? It turns out they were her relatives? A thought popped into my head—to be completely sure, we needed to get a doctor to run some medical tests.

“Was the name of the doctor who told you everyone had died Mason Klide?” Estelle asked.

Mr. West scratched his head as he pondered the question. “I think so, but I’m not entirely sure. So many years have passed since then. But I’m certain his surname was Klide.”

Does this mean that the people who’d adopted her had engineered the entire thing? But how was it possible that nobody had grown suspicious of them and discovered the truth? There were so many questions I couldn’t answer.

“My resemblance to Janet is stunning.” Estelle was no less confused than me.

“Her husband, Scott, really insisted on their having a daughter who looked exactly like my sister. To be honest, I have no idea what they did to achieve that. I know medicine is very advanced now. They can change the sex of the embryo and God knows what else.” Mrs. West stopped for a moment to mentally travel back in time. “God, I’m so happy you’re alive, Estelle.”

“Will anyone spare some attention for me too?” Jeremy called out, making all of us turn our heads to him. He was very pale, with his right arm in a cast and his entire chest bandaged, probably due to the burns. He was extremely lucky that the flames hadn’t reached his face.

Estelle rushed to his bed and bent down to kiss him on the cheeks. I clenched my fists as a surge of jealousy engulfed me. I couldn’t stand seeing her kiss another man, but I had no right to forbid her from doing it. Especially given that the two of them were probably cousins.

“I lost my leg.” Jeremy’s words made Estelle burst into tears again.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured and put her delicate hands on his arm.

“Don’t cry, because you’ll make me cry as well, and I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of Mr. Frey.” He glanced at me nervously, letting me know that my presence was making him uncomfortable.

“I’ll give you some space. Estelle, I’ll wait for you in the car,” I informed her and left the room.

Estelle

Past

O
nly six months
had passed since our wedding, but John had already completely changed the way he treated me. Very often he’d come home drunk and start an argument with me over the most trivial of things, such as why was his supper not hot enough, why had I smiled at the neighbor, why was I wearing a low-cut top and God knows what else… I sometimes thought he must derive some perverse pleasure from fighting with me and screaming in my face.

One day, as I was emptying the pockets of my husband’s pants before putting them in the wash, I found a receipt from a strip club. There was also a flyer, which detailed the services on offer at an event headlined by some porn star. My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when I read that they intended to charge $200 for fifteen minutes of sex with the great porn star. I’d begun to suspect John was being unfaithful to me, and this confirmed my suspicions. With every passing day, my hopes of a better married life slowly evaporated. I wasn’t allowed to go out and have fun, whereas my husband did so whenever he felt like it.

Sometimes I asked myself if he was with me just because he was afraid of being alone. No matter how hard I tried to understand him, my efforts were doomed to fail, because John Chan was too secretive. I couldn’t peer into his soul, and perhaps that was for the best, because I was scared of what I might find out about him.

One lovely summer night, we went out to dinner with his friend and his wife. John treated me really nicely. He’d hugged me, paid me the attention I needed and even called me “darling.” But this was just a show for his friend Patrick and Patrick’s wife, Cecilia. Outward appearances were very important to John, and he wanted to present himself as the perfect husband. I enjoyed the respite from his usual self, hoping it promised some sort of a future for our marriage.

Stars twinkled in the sky like diamonds, and the air was cool and fresh. We laughed at the jokes Patrick dropped, one after the other, savoring the delicious food and the wonderful French red wine. At my husband’s insistence, I wore a pastel green dress. There were bruises on my neck, which I’d decided to hide with a purple silk shawl.

Four days ago, after his latest drunken spree, John had returned home and become angry with me yet again for my inability to get pregnant. He’d thrown me on the bed and raped me. Just like that… As if I was his possession and he could do whatever he wanted to me. He’d gripped my neck really hard until he’d become concerned he might kill me.

And he would’ve if he’d gone on for any longer.

In the morning, when he saw the marks he’d left, John started to apologize to me, promising this would never happen again. I believed him, because I was too stupid, young and naïve.

“To be honest, I can’t stand having something wrapped tight around my neck. This heat’s killing me and you’re wearing a shawl. How can you take it?” Cecilia’s question caught me off guard.

Why did she always have to ask questions? Of course, I was too hot, but I couldn’t take it off and bring shame to myself. I felt my face blush with embarrassment. I glanced at John, who was very good at hiding the truth and spinning tall tales. Fortunately, he rushed to answer before me, sparing me further discomfort.

“Estelle loves silk scarves. Right, darling? And this one really makes her beautiful eyes pop.” He leaned in and kissed me on the temple.

“Oh, John. You’re still like a teenager in love.” Cecilia’s musical laughter rang through the night air. She ran her fingers through her blonde hair and regarded us.

In love…
My husband definitely didn’t know the meaning of that phrase. You don’t beat someone and force them to have sex if you truly love them.

“Wait a few years. We’ll revisit the issue then,” Patrick added and took a sip of his wine.

Cecilia fired an icy glance at him. “What are you trying to say? That you no longer feel anything for me?” Her thin lips curled down into a frown.

Her husband caressed her face and she melted at his touch. “Of course not, dear. I love you more than ever.”

For the rest of the night, Cecilia wouldn’t stop talking about their three kids. The subject of the conversation pained me, because the day before I’d been for a gynecological exam with John’s sister, who ran a private practice near our house. She’d told me I’d never be able to have my own children. The bad news had hit me like a massive rock. And now, hearing all those children-related stories, I felt crushed. I tried to soothe myself, that it was probably for the best. I couldn’t imagine letting my children suffer, but with a father like John Chan, that would be inevitable.

We parted from Cecilia and Patrick, having arranged to meet up again in two weeks. One of their sons was having a birthday party and they’d invited us to come along.

While driving back to our house, John didn’t say a single word. He’d retreated into himself, and that was always a bad omen. I wondered if he was mad at me about something, afraid he’d take his anger out on me. At such times, I wanted to leave him, run far away, but didn’t know where or whom to run to. My husband was rich and had contacts both in the police and the judiciary. No matter where I hid, someone would find me.

On entering the house, John irritably slammed the front door behind him and went to pour himself a cognac. I approached him, wondering how to dissuade him from having a drink.

“It’s already too late. Let’s go to bed,” I asked him. I didn’t want him to drink to excess, because whenever he did that, he’d become aggressive and take it out on me.

He stared at me, menacingly narrowing his eyes. “You’re not letting your own husband have a drink to wind down, is that it? I’m not good enough for you, am I? You prefer Patrick, right? Admit it. That’s why you were smiling at him all night.”

I put my hand on his chest to calm him. He wasn’t himself and was talking nonsense. Patrick was a charming man, but I’d never dare flirt with him. I wasn’t that kind of person and didn’t see him like that anyway. I simply enjoyed being in his company, because he made a lot of jokes and was very funny, unlike my husband, who was always too serious.

“Please, John, you know I don’t feel anything for him,” I whispered, looking him in the eyes. I wanted him to understand that I was telling him the truth. For God’s sake, I’d never hit on a man in my life, not even once.

He grabbed me hard by the wrist. His fingers were gripping me so tight I thought he’d break a bone.

“It hurts. Don’t.”

“You want him, bitch. Don’t think you can fool me. You want him to fuck you, right? I’m not enough for you, is that it?” John hadn’t finished saying his words when he slapped my face so hard I collapsed on the floor. My head hit a nearby chest of drawers on the way down. Stars flashed before my eyes and then darkness fell as I slipped out of consciousness.

When I came to, I was lying on our bed, with John leaning over me. Pain penetrated deep into my skull, as if someone was sticking knives through my brain. But my fear of John was more powerful than anything else.

“Forgive me, Estelle. I promise I’ll never do it again. But you also have to promise you won’t provoke me anymore.”

I tried to sit up, but my head was as heavy as lead. I couldn’t move it even an inch. “I didn’t do anything to provoke you.” With every word I spoke, I felt a stabbing pain through my brain.

“You let Patrick kiss you. You’re my wife, for fuck’s sake. I took your virginity. I’m your first and I’ll be your last.” He knitted his eyebrows. “Only over my dead body will another man be able to have you. Patrick’s jealous of me, can’t you see it? He envies me, because you’re young and his wife has grown old.”

Dear God, this man was going insane. Cecilia was a very attractive woman. She’d put on a bit of weight after having three children, but Patrick liked her that way and didn’t keep it a secret. Their marriage was something to be envious of, not ours. They had three healthy children and we couldn’t even have one.

“Patrick and I were merely saying our goodbyes,” I countered in an attempt to defend myself. What the hell was he talking about?

I groaned when a sharp pain penetrated my temple. “I think I need to see a doctor. I don’t feel well.”

John stood up from the bed and walked to the door. “No doctors. I’ll bring you a painkiller. I’m sure I’ll find something in the medicine cabinet.” He turned to me, giving me a warning look. “Oh, and as for what just happened… You’re not allowed to tell anyone. Am I making myself clear?”

I didn’t have the strength to respond. It was a shock to finally realize he didn’t give a damn about me, not even slightly. I could’ve died.

Was John trying to get rid of me?

“Is that clear, Estelle?” he asked, raising his voice.

“Yes,” I replied quietly, closing my eyes.

I hoped this was just a nightmare, but knew it was reality.
God, is this what our marriage will be like? Spending every day in fear of my own husband?

“If you learn how to be the perfect wife, the wife I want you to be, we won’t have any trouble.”

His voice made me open my eyes again. “I’m trying, John. I really am. You know I have morning lectures in college every day. I study to pass my exams and at the same time, keep the house in perfect order, yet you’re always unsatisfied. Sometimes I wonder why you married me. But the question I ask myself more than anything is, why did you change? Before we got married, you weren’t aggressive to me.”

His sinister laughter filled the entire room. Shaking his head, he replied, “God, Estelle, you’re so naïve. I treated you nicely so you’d marry me. Hell, you’re even dumber than I thought.” His words stabbed me in the chest. Why was he doing all this to me? I simply couldn’t understand.

“You’re rich, John. Why didn’t you just pick a woman who you don’t think is stupid, who’d do everything better than me, and who’d satisfy you?” Why had he proposed to me? Surely he hadn’t simply done it to make his friends and coworkers jealous?

John gripped the door so tight his knuckles whitened. “You’re just eighteen years old. With you being so young, I hoped you’d have no problem getting pregnant. But as you know full well, we can’t have kids anyway.” His voice was full of reproach.

Okay, he was right on that point. It was my fault we couldn’t have kids. But I’d often asked myself why he always refused to get himself checked out by a doctor. I’d noticed his semen was very thin. Not that I had a proper base for comparison, given that he was the only man I’d had sex with. Still, I could see the difference in the porno films John always wanted to watch during sex.

Was the reason…

“Where’s your head at?” His strict voice startled me.

In the clouds
, I got the urge to say, but I knew that would just provoke him and I’d get a beating. My husband wasn’t into jokes. It’d be nice if I could soar through the clouds, but unfortunately I was on Earth, or to be more precise, in hell.

“Do you want to divorce me and find another woman who could bear your child?” I hoped he’d say “yes.” Jesus, how I hoped.

John walked over to me in big strides and grabbed me by the neck. But he didn’t grip me tight and didn’t cause me pain like I thought he would.

“Never! I’ll never agree to divorce you. You need to get that through your head. I won’t let you leave me or run away. And God is my witness, if you do, I’ll find you and make you sorry you weren’t a good wife to me.”

His terrifying eyes burned through me. “Don’t forget your wedding vows, Estelle. We’ll always be together till death do us part. I’ll teach you how to be the perfect homemaker. You make a lot of mistakes, and I punish you for them. And I’ll keep punishing you until you become the wife I want. Sooner or later, it’ll happen. I trust you that far. Tomorrow, when I come back from work, I want to find the closet in perfect order. It’s been a complete mess of late.” John let go of my neck and walked out of the bedroom.