Wait for Me (33 page)

At 4 p.m., I called again to see what he wanted for dinner. He got rid of me by telling me to choose anything.

When I got home that day, I decided not to cook and went into the bedroom. I undressed and waited for his arrival, wearing nothing but my robe.

At 8 p.m. he returned. I stood up and let my robe slide off. Usually he would call, but this time I only heard his footsteps in the corridor. From the doorway, he observed me for a few seconds and then covered me up.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I haven't prepared any dinner,” I said, hugging him.

“That's okay,” he said, stroking my hair.

“What's wrong?”

“Just work stuff, that's all.”

“Then touch me, Adam,” I forced my gown off again, stood naked before him and took his hand. “Please, touch me.”

He shifted away, picked up the robe and draped it over my shoulders.

“Sophie, behave,” then kissed my forehead. “Everything is fine. I just have a lot on my mind.”

He was lying. I would have to force him and I only knew one way.

“You'll need to punish me because I lied to you,” I looked at him insolently. “I didn't tell you that I saw Mark yesterday,” and with a smile, “he came by the parking lot.”

He gripped my arm, his fingers digging into me.

“And what did he say to you?” he said jerking me.

His reaction was not surprising in the least; it was exactly as I had anticipated.

“Sophie, what did he say to you?” he repeated.

“He told me that he still thought about the time he took my virginity.”

He stared at me, dumbfounded, as though a blow to the head had clouded his vision.

“I never told you. I was seventeen and he was twenty-three. He fucked me on my mother's couch. You know – the one you sit on every Sunday?”

Adam stormed to the living room. I followed him, stark naked.

“You want to know the details? He took my hand and put it on his cock, then he asked if I'd give him head.”

“Stop, please,” he said, clasping a hand over my mouth.

I struggled out of his grip and ran behind the couch to shield myself from him, but still resumed the tale. I wanted the house of cards to crumble.

I did not care about the imminent consequences. I only cared about baiting him.

“Then he took my trousers, and my underwear, then my virginity.”

“Fuck, Sophie!”

He stepped over the couch, charging forwards and flung me to the ground.

I spread my legs.

“Then he inserted himself into my tight, dry cunt, and it hurt like motherfucker but then I—”

Adam removed his belt.

I jumped to my feet and ran behind the table.

“Sophie, get here,” he yelled.

“Then he ejaculated onto my back, gathered it into his hands and made me lick it off.”

He was blind with rage. I closed my eyes, awaiting the hurricane. He grabbed me by the hair, dragged me over to the kitchen counter and buckled my hands to the cupboard door handle.

He spanked my right butt cheek, then my left. I stifled the pain.

“Fuck me, Adam,” I said and spreading my legs again. “Fuck me like he did.”

He pulled my hair and clamped my cheek. “Why are you doing this Sophie? Why? You're making me crazy!” he screamed. At that, he freed my hands and, without another word, vanished into the bathroom.

Exhausted, I crouched on the floor and stayed there until I heard him re-emerge. I rose and joined him in the bedroom. Adam was sitting on the bed, looking like a shadow of himself. I drew closer, ran my fingers through his wet hair and he hugged me, resting his head on my stomach.

“Tell me what's going on, Adam. Please, tell me.”

“Elizabeth… after I left her, she tried to get me back in any way that she could. Every day she would show up and plead with me. The night she died, she came to find me in the hotel. She kept telling me that the baby was mine and that she truly loved me, but I didn't believe her. Anyway, that night, like always I asked her to leave and she begged me to make love to her. I was in a bad way, Sophie, and I gave in. It made me so angry to look at her body, the image of her and Tom together, and I had no idea she was sick.”

I dropped to my knees, held his head and looked into his eyes.

“What did you do to her?”

“Nothing – she had a stroke. The doctors came with the police and they all assumed that I'd done it. She had a lot of suspicious marks on her body.” He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, then returned to me. “She used to self-harm too. Right after I left her she started torturing herself. For the police, there was no denying my involvement, and maybe a part of me believed it too… I don't know. It was all such a blur.”

I tried to kiss him but he looked down.

“Finally, the autopsy showed that it really was a stroke. I signed a confidentiality agreement and the case was closed.”

“And the child… it wasn't yours?”

He shook his head. “No, DNA showed that Tom was the father. I didn't say anything to her parents about it though – they had been through enough.”

“What does Mark have to do with this?” I asked.

“Mark Cameron was one of the doctors on call that night.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I don't know. Fear, shame, guilt – you choose. But it's the truth Sophie, you can ask him, it was an accident and all the evidence is there,” he said.

“I know… I believe you. But, Adam, you have to start being honest with me. I can't bait you every time I want a simple explanation. And you really have to find a good therapist too. This isn't good, and I can't do anything to fix it.”

“A simple explanation!” he snapped. “Sophie, how can you expect me to just come out with a story like that, after everything you've been through?”

“Because you have to.”

“Anyway, not the issue. So last month… when I—” he clenched his fists. “When—”

“I got it.”

“When you passed out, I called my doctor – Dr Murdoch – but he told me he had retired and gave me the direct number for his replacement. He assured me that he was a part of the same practice and that he had all the patient details.”

“And it was Mark?” I asked.

He nodded.

Oh god, of course. “And then?”

“He examined you when he arrived. At first he didn't recognize you, but as he was trying to bring you round he asked me for your name, and the way he reacted—”

“Christ,” I muttered, putting a hand over my mouth.

“How did he react? Did you guys fight?”

“Kind of, I had to remind him about patient confidentiality.”

“And him?”

“And him what? Sophie, it's his job, he looked after you. He stayed the whole night. He'd only just left by the time you woke up.”

Jesus, I thought, all afternoon eating lunch at my mother's, jabbering about how everything was going so well. He had only seen me a few hours earlier.

“He won't say a word, Sophie,” he said. I nodded, breathless. “He assured me when I paid him.”

I squeezed him tightly, crushing his ribs.

“I didn't hurt you did I?” he asked, stealing a glance at me.

“What?”

“Earlier, I didn't hurt you?” he asked again.

“No,” I answered.

He gathered my robe from the floor, wrapped it around me and hugged me with it. “Sophie, I think it's better if you leave. I'm no good for you. I'm doing nothing but hurt you.”

“Adam, enough – it's time that you face this thing. You have to start seeing a therapist. And I'm not going anywhere,” I said. “Nothing has changed for me. I understand you.”

“Please, I want you to go,” he said, with an abrupt change of mood.

“Why do you do this? It's my choice to stay with you.”

“Fuck, Sophie! What does it take? There'll come a day when I lose control and I really do hurt you, so badly that you hate me… or worse.”

“Why are you being like this? I don't see this as suffering. I'm here, I'm perfectly healthy, and trust me, you're no worse than the others.”

His eyes grew more contemptuous.

“Because I restrain myself,” he screamed. “And this is why Sophie – every time I fuck you it takes everything I have not to choke you and watch you suffocate. There were times when I was whipping you that I want to see you covered in blood. Or grab a piece of your flesh and tear it off, just for the reaction. I fuck your body and I can't even hear you. Sophie, I can't take it any more… you have to go. Get out of here, for the love of god.”

“Adam!”

“Leave me alone and do not argue with me. You asked me to try, remember? But being with you – I'm on a constant knife edge trying to control myself. I have to fill my head with all this other stuff. I don't want to be tied down. Never again. I'm not interested in feelings. They destroy me and I'm losing my mind.”

I couldn't find the words to follow this revelation. I only felt a sickness inside.

“You're not fulfilled?” I asked.

“No,” he said coldly. “Not as I wish to be.”

“There's nothing I can do?”

“Leave. I don't want to find you here when I get back, Sophie. I'm sick of your presence. I'm disgusted by you. Please go before tomorrow – leave the keys with the caretaker.”

He got dressed to go out.

“Where are you going?” I asked in alarm.

“I'm going to stay in a hotel tonight, please do as I say.”

I blocked the doorway. “This makes it easier for you, doesn't it?” I asked.

He pushed me aside.

“Answer me!” I screeched, hurling a shoe at him.

He stopped in his tracks. “Yes, it makes it easier. It's the only way I know how to keep going,” he said, without turning. “Sophie, every time I look at you it's torture. You remind me of every one of my problems and I feel nothing but pity for myself.”

“Not good enough, there's only one thing I'll settle for. Tell me what I need to hear and I'll go, but look me in the eye when you do it.”

He did not need to be told twice. He decidedly backtracked and pushed me against the glass panel on the bedroom door. “I don't love you any more. I feel nothing but pain. You don't arouse me any more and even your scent bothers me.” There was no hesitation in his voice.

“If that's true then it's your own fault,” I replied, pushing him away.

“You're not the first to tell me that,” he said coldly, with a mocking smile.

At those words, I couldn't hold it in any more. “I am not Elizabeth!” I screamed. “You piece of shit!” I grabbed my clothes from the chair, under his glazed expression. “Don't even bother going to a hotel. Stay here in your fucking apartment, with your fucking ghosts, and I'll get out of here before I have a fucking stroke of my own.”

Then he slapped me hard across the face. My cheek went numb for a few moments.

“Good, go ahead, hit me, you won't be the first either,” I grabbed my bag and tore for the exit. “You won't be the first but one thing's for damn sure – you will be the last.” I opened the door and slammed it behind me with every ounce of strength that I had. I wanted the hinges to break and the wood to shatter. I avoided the elevator and thundered down twelve flights of stairs. I did not believe a single word he had said, but if he was looking for an escape route then I was just about ready to accept that. It was all I could do, and that was that. As I set off walking, I realized I was carrying Mark's business card and resolved to call him. He told me he was working a night shift at the hospital, but I could stop by.

He figured it out the moment I arrived. He sat me down in his office and gave me a mug of tea.

“I take it you spoke to Adam then.”

I nodded. “He left me,” I said.

“Good,” he answered firmly.

I broke down into tears. “Mark, you don't understand,” I sobbed.

“No, Sophie, you don't understand – Adam Scott is a murderer, he killed his pregnant wife.”

“She had a stroke!” I cried. “It was just a tragic incident.”

“She died at his hand. Maybe it was a stroke, but it isn't always so black and white. Anyway, she's gone,” he stated.

“It could have happened anywhere,” I muttered, staring out of the window. “She could have been picking a dime up off the floor.”

“Listen, Sophie,” he said with sympathy. “You're not in a good place to look at this clearly right now, but believe me, this is the best possible outcome – he's dangerous. You might be in love with him, but this man could kill you.”

“He doesn't want me any more,” said my breaking voice. “He told me that—”

“Sophie,” he snapped. “Stop.”

What could he know about the real Adam?

“Where are you going to go for the time being?” he asked in a condescending tone.

“I don't know, probably back to the Bronx to Sabrina and Steph,” I replied.

“No, don't even think about it. You have to go somewhere that he won't know to look.”

“He won't come looking for me, don't worry about that.”

“You have to get away for a while.”

“No, I don't. What are you worried about? That if he showed up now then I'd fall at his feet? Do you think I'm that stupid? Adam has some serious problems and I can't do anything to help him. All I do is remind him—”

Mark touched my arm lightly. “Sophie, look at me,” he said. “Look at me.” I slowly looked up.

“If you stay with Sabrina, then you stay involved. You have to go somewhere else. You need some perspective. I know you can't understand it right now, but it's absolutely necessary, at least for a week, at least whilst you recuperate. Come and stay with me and Brenda,” he said.

“I don't know, I think I'd rather go back to Sabrina and Steph. They already know the situation.”