Treasure [h.s]

| 40 - Cornered |

I fucked up.

Brinna found out what I had done, and after I had gotten a taste of what it could have been like to truly have her as a wife, I realized that's not what I wanted.

I mean, I want her as my wife. I want her at home, waiting for me when I get off of work, excited to show me all of the things she'd hung up or made throughout her day. What I don't want, is a wife who makes me poisoned pies after finding out that I had made her my wife by means of manipulation.

I should have hid it better.

I don't regret a single thing. I did it for her protection and now she's my wife. Why would I ever regret that? I only feel bad that she had to find out like that, which is why I served her divorce papers.

Fake divorce papers. She's not leaving me.

Accompanied by sunflowers and a day out with her best friend to shit-talk her new husband, what more could a woman want? I'm sure she's had a wonderful day, seeing as how it's dark and she still isn't home. I made sure to have the entire house cleaned and ready for her arrival because she made it clear that she isn't the type to be a housewife like she thought I would have expected of her.

An alert chimes on my phone and from the ringtone, I know it means someone's coming up the elevator. With one glance at the security app, my stomach swirls with butterflies knowing that Brin is the one coming up. I take a final look around before lighting her favorite candle.

I take a seat on the couch, hoping to play it off as casually as possible because I know she's probably still mad. She's a fiery little siren, I'll give her that. The fireplace on the large TV screen crackles as I watch the reflection in the balcony window, waiting for the door to open and my Treasure to walk in.

She does so quietly, not even looking up to find me before she starts ripping her clothes off and heading straight toward the guest room with a chaotic quickness that I hadn't seen her use since the morning after the first time we met.

But that's not what made my curiosity turn to slight alarm. It was the reason why she was ripping her clothes off and rushing off to the shower. It was so quick that I don't know if I really saw it or not, but I swear I saw a streak of blood on her shirt.

I stand from my seat, taking slow steps toward the bathroom so I don't make any noise and alert her that I'm near. She seems spooked and I don't want to do anything that could make it worse until I know what happened.

My hand finds the door knob and I twist it slowly, pushing open the door to the pitch-black guest room. I can see the light coming from under the bathroom door and I can smell her soap, but her clothes don't seem to be anywhere around here.

I definitely don't want to risk sneaking into the bathroom while she's showering, so I just turn on my heel and make a move to leave the room but stop dead in my tracks as my phone starts ringing in my pocket, this time a phone call, and by the sound of the ringtone, an urgent one.