Chapter 57
That was not ice cream.
I knew what ice cream tasted like I knew what this was. And she knew exactly what this was. And she had looked me in the eye without flinching and said ice cream and walked out of the room.
My wife.
My Celeste.
The woman I had built my entire life around. The woman I had chosen above everyone else. The woman I had controlled and shaped and kept and protected and loved in the only way I knew how to love, which was completely and without question and with the absolute certainty that she would never, not in a million years, do to me what I had done to her.
I dropped the dress.
I walked out of the bedroom.
She was in the living room.
Standing in front of Seraphine with both of Seraphine’s hands held in hers, her voice soft and warm, her expression open and
kind.
“I am sorry for slapping you,” she was saying. “It was not intentional. Pure reflex. I walked into my own home and your hand came at my face and my body reacted before my mind could catch up.” She squeezed Seraphine’s hands gently. “You know I am not a violent person. But I will never allow anyone to raise a hand to me. Not even you.”
I moved closer. “Wait.”
They both looked at me.
“You slapped my wife?” I turned to Seraphine. My voice came out harder than I intended. “You put your hands on her?”
When I had seen Celeste slapping Seraphine earlier, I had not stopped to think about who started it. The anger about the dress had been too loud. But now I was looking at the faint redness along Celeste’s jaw and understanding the sequence of events and feeling a different kind of rage start to climb.
“It is true,” Celeste said quietly. “Seraphine slapped me first. But I am sure she did not mean it. She was probably upset about something.”
I looked at Seraphine.
She looked back at me.
Before she could speak I raised my hand and slapped her.
The force knocked her sideways and she hit the floor with a yelp, her hand flying to her face.
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