Chapter 5
Damon sat on the beach, scooping up handfuls of sand and letting it fall between his fingers. He'd never thought that his honeymoon would be filled with so much damn introspection, but here he was, sitting alone on the beach, watching the sun setting over the water and thinking about how he'd never screwed up anything as badly as he'd screwed up his marriage to Elena.
After one week in paradise, he hadn't gotten any further with her than when they first arrived. He'd taken her to one of his favorite places in the world, Tahiti. Being rich had afforded him the luxury of visiting many different places, and he definitely thought Tahiti was heaven on earth. He owned a property in Toahotu that he'd never shared with anyone else. He liked his privacy and space, but he'd wanted Elena to share it with him. He thought that the relaxation might do her good. Even if it just meant her sitting on the beach day in, day out.
To be fair, at the time he'd also been thinking about him and Elena sipping cocktails, watching the sunset, and perhaps skinny dipping. That was before he knew he would have to threaten her to get her to walk down the aisle. He sipped at the glass in his hand.
After the wedding, she'd had something akin to a breakdown. She'd called him morally bankrupt and a controlling egomaniac. Normally he didn't give a damn what anyone thought of him, but he hated that Elena thought he was those things.
He'd done things he regretted before; he'd made mistakes, but never one like this. Blackmailing Elena was about the worst thing he'd ever done and now it looked as if she intended to make him pay for a very long time. She was miserable, and he in turn was miserable.
He'd severely overestimated his ability to win her over. He had no idea what to do with her. She wouldn't eat. She wouldn't talk to him. Hell, she wouldn't even look at him most of the time.
He was starting to worry. No, he was more than worried. At moments he'd had thoughts of coming clean and telling her he never would have hurt her family, but the damage was done. Besides, would she really think of him in any better light if he told her the truth? He could see it now, 'So Elena, you remember how I told you I'd take everything away from your family if you didn't marry me, well I lied. I lied to get you to marry me.' Yeah, he didn't think it would go down much better than the threat itself.
The most concerning thing was that she wouldn't eat. She looked like she was losing weight; something she could not afford to do. He didn't know how to get her to eat, short of forcing food into her mouth or threatening her. Neither of those options appealed, but nothing else was working.
He'd tried charming her and he'd tried keeping his distance. He'd been nice and polite, but that was getting him no where fast. He had to change track. Anything was worth a go at this point. Perhaps he had to say goodbye to the idea of her liking him at all. She saw him as a controlling ass anyway. He might as well be one and get her to eat. So that was it then; no more playing mister nice guy.
He pulled out his phone and dialed a number he knew off by heart. If anyone could make Elena eat, it would be Bree. He finished his conversation and stood up. He had a stop to make before he returned home.
Elena sat on her bed, listening to her iPod. She had a book sitting open on her stomach, but she didn't feel like reading. She didn't feel like doing much of anything at all. Damon had brought her to what he called 'his little slice of heaven,' but she didn't want to see or explore any of it. If she were completely honest, she was too busy indulging in self-pity to pay any attention to the scenery outside.
She was managing to avoid Damon by never going outside and not eating. He'd given her a bedroom of her own, and other than letting her know when their food was ready and trying to convince her to eat, she never saw him. For a week, she'd been in these four walls. Instead of thinking of it as a prison, though, it felt more like a safe haven.
