The Bone Cutter

Chapter Forty-Eight

happy easter  He has risen

thank you for supporting me

have fun with this one

love u

Chapter Forty-Eight 

There have been multiple times throughout our marriage that I had amused the idea of stabbing Inanis in the eyes with a spoon. Many times I've considered poisoning him. I've fondled each bloom of hatred I had for him, and nurtured them with more and more repulsion for the man, until my hatred became a plethora of emotions, all budding different reasonings as to why it would be a grand step forward for the country, if he simply ceased to exist.

The sheer stupidity of him and his absurd accusations against me this morning, really took the cake.

I glare at myself in the mirror as I was being measured for the dress I would be wearing for the president's execution. After Inanis practically accused me of being sexually disgusted by him simply due to his mental disorder, as if he really thinks that has anything to do with it, we haven't said a word to each other.

We rode in the car in silence. We were separated into two different dressing rooms, both of us being fitted for our own clothing, and then we will go home. 

Against my own pride, my heart beats erratically in my chest at the thought of having to share a bed with him after the pure, unwarranted shit that came out of his mouth this morning. 

He had always joked about finding me sexually attractive, and there isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't spit out some joke about me being naked. I never thought us not having sex really did bother him, he never really got angry about me turning him down. Normally he just grins at me like he already knew I'd reject him, or dramatically sighs, as if it was a burden he even bothered to ask.

I'm not stupid enough to believe he was faking his attraction to me while we made out in bed, but perhaps I'm not as smart as I thought, being that this whole time I never understood that maybe he was actually asking me for sex, and his way of doing so is by making a fucking joke out of it.

I want to punch him. 

The fact that it did hurt his ego this much, and I didn't even realize, is as amusing as it pathetic. 

After the women were finished taking my measurements, I sat in the lonely dressing room, waiting for Inanis to get done. The whole time I stewed in my own annoyance, and fear. 

I didn't want to have to talk to him again. I didn't want to have to be face-to-face with him. Not because I didn't want to explain that his ADHD had nothing to do with my hatred for him (and that him slaughtering people for fame definitely was), but, in reality, I was afraid because I couldn't stop thinking about the moment I could tell him.  

More than anything I wanted to grab him and kiss him, and smack him at the same time.

Nobody else has the power to make me this confused and frustrated. I'm not sure if I like the constant reflection of my own feelings, or genuinely desire a divorce.

There was a knock at the door, and I knew immediately that it wasn't Inanis, because Inanis does not knock. When I called out for whoever it was to come in, the door opened, and a very small, and thin young woman awkwardly saunters in. She wore a woman's professional pantsuit, but it was at least two sizes too big on her, and her hair looked messily put into a bun, as though she overslept this morning, and rushed to fix herself. Her cheeks were flushed like she was terrified and embarrassed to be in my dressing room, and yet I watched her force herself to stand straight, feigning the boldest form of confidence. "The Bone Cutter is waiting for you outside, ma'am."