The Diary of a Newlywed Wife - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
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The second Wesley crossed the threshold, his gaze skittered away like a startled rabbit. Only then did I notice how my sheer nightgown left him flustered, unable to meet my eyes.
"Vivian... Vincent's not home?" His voice cracked slightly.
"Your brother got called into the office. Here, let me take those wines from you..."
As soon as I relieved him of the bottles, Wesley turned to bolt, but I caught his arm. The tonic soup must have been working its dark magic by then - my thoughts spiraled into dangerous territory.
Leaving the bedroom door slightly ajar, I collapsed dramatically onto the bed. With perfect timing, I sent a wine bottle crashing to the floor.
The shattering glass worked like a charm. Wesley came running.
"Vivian, are you hurt?" His voice was thick with panic as he burst in. I'd already hiked up the hem of my nightgown just so.
"You look... unwell."
Wesley fumbled for a blanket, draping it over me with shaking hands, carefully tucking the fabric around my legs. Whether from the alcohol or Vincent's mystery ingredients, my body moved without my permission.
"Wesley... stay with me tonight." The words slurred out. "I need you."
His hand clamped over my mouth. The other gripped mine tightly - and slipped something cold into my palm.
A ring.
My wedding ring. The custom piece Vincent had designed. The one I'd supposedly lost two months ago. My blood ran cold. How did Wesley—?
Before I could process this, the bedroom door flew open with a bang.
"Wesley, you backstabbing bastard! I trusted you like family!"
Vincent's roar preceded a vicious kick that sent Wesley sprawling. The sudden violence shocked me into momentary clarity.
"Vincent, stop! This isn't what—"
Too late. Vincent had Wesley by the collar, landing another brutal punch.
"You whore! Defending him after throwing yourself at him?"
The slap exploded across my cheek, leaving fire in its wake. I tasted blood.
"Vincent, please! She was drunk, I just brought the—"
Another swing cut off Wesley's explanation. This time he ducked.
"Save your breath! I saw how you looked at my wife last time. Get the hell out of my house!"
Vincent's fists flew in a blind rage. The hallway fell silent - Wesley must have escaped.
I tried to stand, but my limbs felt like lead weights. My knees gave way—
Glass shards bit into my forearm, blood blooming across the hardwood like some macabre rose.
When Vincent returned from chasing Wesley off, he took one look at the scene, scooped me up without a word, and sped to the hospital.
The doctor called the cuts superficial. After bandaging me, Vincent brought me home.
Morning light brought pounding clarity. Vincent seized my hands the moment I stirred.
"That tremella soup you gave me last night... Did you put something in it?"
His grip tightened. Lips brushed my forehead. "Just vitamins, darling. Rest now."
Then with a magician's flourish, he produced two passports and airline tickets.
"Look what I've got! Your dream Bali getaway—flights and visas all set for Saturday."
I forced a smile while flipping through the documents. The trip I'd begged for now tasted like poison.
"You've been dying for this vacation. Why the long face?"
"Just exhausted," I lied, escaping to the bathroom.
Locked inside, last night's events replayed. Wesley's desperate grip. The cold metal pressed into my palm.
My missing wedding ring.
How? Why? The questions coiled in my gut as I stared at the band glinting in my hand—the one Vincent had sworn was lost forever.
"Vivian... Vincent's not home?" His voice cracked slightly.
"Your brother got called into the office. Here, let me take those wines from you..."
As soon as I relieved him of the bottles, Wesley turned to bolt, but I caught his arm. The tonic soup must have been working its dark magic by then - my thoughts spiraled into dangerous territory.
Leaving the bedroom door slightly ajar, I collapsed dramatically onto the bed. With perfect timing, I sent a wine bottle crashing to the floor.
The shattering glass worked like a charm. Wesley came running.
"Vivian, are you hurt?" His voice was thick with panic as he burst in. I'd already hiked up the hem of my nightgown just so.
"You look... unwell."
Wesley fumbled for a blanket, draping it over me with shaking hands, carefully tucking the fabric around my legs. Whether from the alcohol or Vincent's mystery ingredients, my body moved without my permission.
"Wesley... stay with me tonight." The words slurred out. "I need you."
His hand clamped over my mouth. The other gripped mine tightly - and slipped something cold into my palm.
A ring.
My wedding ring. The custom piece Vincent had designed. The one I'd supposedly lost two months ago. My blood ran cold. How did Wesley—?
Before I could process this, the bedroom door flew open with a bang.
"Wesley, you backstabbing bastard! I trusted you like family!"
Vincent's roar preceded a vicious kick that sent Wesley sprawling. The sudden violence shocked me into momentary clarity.
"Vincent, stop! This isn't what—"
Too late. Vincent had Wesley by the collar, landing another brutal punch.
"You whore! Defending him after throwing yourself at him?"
The slap exploded across my cheek, leaving fire in its wake. I tasted blood.
"Vincent, please! She was drunk, I just brought the—"
Another swing cut off Wesley's explanation. This time he ducked.
"Save your breath! I saw how you looked at my wife last time. Get the hell out of my house!"
Vincent's fists flew in a blind rage. The hallway fell silent - Wesley must have escaped.
I tried to stand, but my limbs felt like lead weights. My knees gave way—
Glass shards bit into my forearm, blood blooming across the hardwood like some macabre rose.
When Vincent returned from chasing Wesley off, he took one look at the scene, scooped me up without a word, and sped to the hospital.
The doctor called the cuts superficial. After bandaging me, Vincent brought me home.
Morning light brought pounding clarity. Vincent seized my hands the moment I stirred.
"That tremella soup you gave me last night... Did you put something in it?"
His grip tightened. Lips brushed my forehead. "Just vitamins, darling. Rest now."
Then with a magician's flourish, he produced two passports and airline tickets.
"Look what I've got! Your dream Bali getaway—flights and visas all set for Saturday."
I forced a smile while flipping through the documents. The trip I'd begged for now tasted like poison.
"You've been dying for this vacation. Why the long face?"
"Just exhausted," I lied, escaping to the bathroom.
Locked inside, last night's events replayed. Wesley's desperate grip. The cold metal pressed into my palm.
My missing wedding ring.
How? Why? The questions coiled in my gut as I stared at the band glinting in my hand—the one Vincent had sworn was lost forever.
End of The Diary of a Newlywed Wife Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to The Diary of a Newlywed Wife book page.