Arrogant Devil(60)

It’s one thing to stand here and have my faults and failures thrown at me, and quite another to stand here and let him fling baseless accusations at me. He’s decided to play judge, jury, and executioner. He thinks I’m a bored sociopath with a doting husband waiting for me back in California and a trail of idolizers in my wake. To hear him actually say it makes me so angry that my fingernails dig into my skin as I fist my palms even tighter. There’s fire burning up inside of me so powerful, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to douse it. It’s anger like I’ve never felt. If I were a juvenile superhero, this would be the moment I lose control of my power and blow up a city. But, here in reality, the only things I lose control of are the tears gathering in the corners of my eyes.

Ever since I married Andrew, I’ve been misjudged and misunderstood by the people around me: my parents, Helen, my so-called friends in California. I’ve dealt with their assumptions and mistruths, and I’ve accepted their loyalty to Andrew over me in stride. Sure, it’s painful, but I’ve tolerated it because I knew the real truth.

But, to hear Jack so taken in by Andrew’s manipulation from over a thousand miles away is unbearable. It’s the knockout punch. There’s nothing left because now I fully realize that whatever evil is inside Andrew, he’s poisoned me with it. No matter where I go, I’ll carry it around with me forever, ruining my hopes for a new beginning.

If I weren’t so furious, I think my trembling knees would buckle. My heart is beating so wildly it scares me. I feel numb and tingly and so full of helplessness that I want to scream until my throat is sore and my voice is gone.

I realize then that Jack is looking at me with new eyes, not quite as full of rage as they were a few minutes ago. It’s obvious my reaction is scaring him—I’m glad. I hope he sees how deeply his words have wounded me.

“So the story of Meredith is open and shut. Why don’t we move on to you, Jack?” I dig deep to conjure up a wicked, half-crazed smile. “I used to think the rough appearance you wear was all for show. I thought deep down, you weren’t really the demon people think you are. I was wrong, just like you’re wrong about me. You’re the meanest asshole I’ve ever met, which is saying something because I was married to a monster, but you? You might have him beat.” I laugh acerbically. “I even find it all a little hilarious—I escape from hell just to run right into the arms of the devil.”



21



Meredith



Jack’s not at the farmhouse on Friday, and I don’t care to ask Edith where he went—back to the underworld, most likely. I still do my job; I scrub that asshole’s kitchen and I hang up his clothes and I make his lunch and I don’t burn the place down. If anything, that would probably make him more comfortable, sitting amongst the flames and charred embers.

I think of all the ways I could sabotage his life, from the extreme (poisoning his mouthwash) to the mundane (brewing decaf in the morning so he gets caffeine withdrawal). I replay our argument in his office and insert different responses. A part of me wishes I’d just given him a classic fuck off—simple and straight to the point. Maybe the next time I see him, I’ll say it.

I know I won’t though. I will be the picture of docile civility. I’ll greet him with a smile and a pleasant hello. I’ll continue being on my best behavior because I won’t do anything he could use as an excuse to fire me. No, that jerk is stuck with me until I decide I’ve had enough, until I find some way to move on. I have one paycheck in the bank, plus my measly advance. Even if I wanted to (which I don’t!), I don’t think I could even afford to get back to California at this point.

Asking either of my parents to bail me out is still an option, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. As far as they know, I’m still happily married to Andrew, living the sunny beach life. I won’t tell them otherwise until I have some kind of plan for the future. The only thing worse than dealing with Jack would be facing them in my current state. I can just imagine the look of disappointment on my mom’s face. She thought I hit the jackpot when I met Andrew and married young. Before I even walked down the aisle, she admitted how relieved she was that I’d never have to worry about money.

Oh well. I learned my lesson. I survived Andrew, and now I know better than to depend on a man ever again. I’m going to pave the way for my future on my own. I just need to, y’know, narrow down what that future will actually entail.



Saturday morning, I wake up early to start getting ready for the wedding. I eat dry cereal while standing at the window of the shack, trying to spot Jack inside the farmhouse. I check the upstairs office window, kitchen window, bedroom window, repeat. He’s nowhere to be found. After that bout of titillating reconnaissance, I do some light yoga to calm my nerves. I don’t know why I have butterflies in my stomach and a weird feeling in my chest—well, other than the fact that I’ll likely have to face Jack at the wedding, but whatever. I can handle him. I have a plan, remember? Polite indifference. Sometimes, a smile says eff you even louder than words can.

I shower and take extra time with my hair so by the time I’m done, it’s smooth and wavy. I apply my makeup carefully and slip into my dress. It’s dark blue with a triangle neckline and spaghetti straps. The top fits me like a glove, and the skirt flows just a little when I move. I wish I had a nice pair of shoes to wear with it, but I did manage to snag some nude heels at the thrift store. They’re pretty worn down, but hey, they were three dollars, so if they last the night, I’ll call it a win.