WUTHERING NIGHTS (chapter twenty-nine: Glass House)

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Chapter Twenty-nine    

Glass House

    In retrospect, he had tried to show enthusiasm for the marriage. 

     As they grew apart, Annabelle was unaware they’d never really been together, except as friends and briefly, lovers. If his wife had ever asked, he would have told her everything. Deep down, he knew the truth; Annabelle didn’t want to know.

    Work was always his excuse.

    The office needed him - the businesses. The family fortune required overseeing now that Harrison had drunk himself into despair and lost most of the shares that had remained in his name. Harrison sold the rest to Heath’s company for a third of what they were worth. Of this recent business deal, he was not ashamed. He knew Kate, whom he hadn’t spoken to for months, would be angry at him for stooping to Harrison’s level.

     The adoption of Hinton had not brought the family any closer together and Heath made more excuses to stay out of the house. Heath’s career was escalating and he was expanding the company overseas, preparing to leave London for Asia for three months.

   ‘I’m asking you not to go,’ Annabelle said. ‘It’s too soon with the baby.’

   ‘Well Annabelle, you knew where this was going when you married me. I can’t abandon my career; it’s important.’

   ‘For what? You’ve earned more money than we could ever use and you have mine. You’ve spent half your life trying to get back at Harrison, now you’ve succeeded. You own his house…his companies...’

   ‘Co-own. Remember it’s mortgaged.’

   ‘The same thing, you will own it. And my brother, you won’t even speak to Hunt.’

   ‘It is an understatement to say we didn’t get along at school…’

   ‘But we are adults now, Heath; I just want you to forget…’

    Annabelle put her hands on her husband’s face. Normally her blood did not appeal to him overly, but he hadn’t taken his vitamins and was low on plasma. He pushed her hand away, afraid the yearning to feed and munch on the cool blue vein in her wrist would repel her. If only he could share with her his longings, his issues, himself. Perhaps the marriage would have had a chance. But, let’s face it, she wasn’t Kate. He knew Annabelle would run from him when she discovered the truth. He was sure of it.  

    Annabelle, for her part, suspected Heath was not normal from the earliest days of their marriage. She thought he might need therapy but he brushed her away when she tried to talk to him about his mood swings, as she called them. He’d always been cold towards her, Annabelle realized in retrospect. She had thought Hinton and the baby would bring them together but after he’d satisfied himself that the foetus would be “normal” (going so far as to take her to a strange specialist in Harley Street when she seemed overly fond of lamb chops), Heath had distanced himself from her once again. 

     Every person was worthy of love. It seemed to Annabelle that Heath had received more from the marriage than she had. Annabelle only expected her husband to love her, yet he made her feel unworthy. Sometimes he looked at her as if she was air and Belle caught him looking at Kate’s old photographs more than once. Annabelle didn’t even want to think about her sister-in-law. She was sure it was their love that had wrecked her marriage. On other occasions she realised that Heath was the sort of man who would have found it hard to make any marriage work.

     Belle regretted the loss of her only female friend.  She missed being close to her sister-in-law. Months earlier, Kate had pleaded with Annabelle not to marry Heath and Annabelle hated to admit Kate was right.

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