Page 56 of Ever After

I flinch as if I’ve been slapped. The room goes very still. I force myself to meet his eyes. He’s watching me intently. There’s a gleam in his eyes that looks almost like satisfaction. But no. That’s silly. My Levi could never look at me like that.

“Levi,” I say. “Can we talk⁠—”

“It can’t be news to you,” he interrupts, returning his gaze to his book. “Everyone in your life grows tired of your selfishness, your obsession about your gifts. Surely, I’m not the first person to complain.”

I stare at him, frozen. He’s deliberately being hurtful, because he knows too well how vulnerable I am about these awful powers of mine. I’d been lulled into a false sense of security by his apparent easy acceptance of them, but I shouldn’t have been. It’s like I’ve been stabbed with a knife I never noticed he had in his hand. My stomach aches and my entire body clenches as I wait for the next unexpected strike.

“I know living with me and all that goes with that is not ideal…” The words trail away as he shrugs.

“It’s fine. Can I read my book now?” He flicks open the diary and finds his page, utterly calm and serene.

What the fuck? Doesn’t he care that I’m standing in front of him with tears in my eyes? How does he get off talking to me like that?

I scan his features. They’re cool and remote, as if he’s behind a wall of thick glass. My gaze lingers on the wave of hair curling over his forehead, and my eyes narrow. His hair had been dripping when I’d found him in the bath, and I swear I’d heard him shouting my name from the bathroom, panicking.

Had he hit his head harder than he’s letting on? Slipped in the water? I suddenly remember reading a news article about a bloke who’d inhaled water and died from secondary drowning.

Shit. Something happened to him in that bath. I shouldn’t be standing here feeling sorry for myself and thinking he hates me. I should be helping him.

“Actually no, you can’t read anymore,” I say, stepping forward. “I think we should get out of the house, Levi. We’ll pop into the nearest hospital and let someone check out your head and see if you’re okay.”

He grimaces. “It’s like being in gaol.”

I ignore him. “Come on. Let’s go. Put this down.”

I reach out for the diary, but as my fingers touch the cracked-leather cover, he makes a snarling noise, and I feel his fist land on my cheekbone. My head whips to the right, and my arms go wide as I reel in stunned, painful shock. He reaches for me and, for a stupid second, I think he’s trying to help me, that this has all been a mistake and he didn’t mean to hit me. But then his hands ram into my chest and he shoves. I stagger backwards and land on my arse with a thud, my bones rattling.

For a few moments, all I can do is gulp for breath and stare up at him.

He raised his hand to me and pushed me down.

The thought is so shocking and incomprehensible that I don’t want to even acknowledge it. Because if I do, I have to also acknowledge that he just did something that changes everything—our relationship, our marriage. It changes who we are.

I’ve been shoved and hit more times than I can count, but I never thought Levi would hurt me that way. For a wild moment, I think about ignoring it, pretending it didn’t happen, and going on with the day and our lives. But I can’t do that. My face stings and I banged my hip in the fall. And Levi stands over me, his mouth set, his eyes icy. No apology. Not desperate for forgiveness. This is not a man I know.

I scan the room. What’s been happening is so surreal, I check for the presence of Branok, of the strange man from the beach—any sign that this moment isn’t strictly reality. But there are no ghosts. Only Levi shaking his head at me in disappointment and sitting down on the sofa again, the diary in his hand.

I watch as he picks up his pen and starts to make notes again. My breathing is coming fast and choked, and I have a horrible feeling that I’m going to cry in front of him. What’s happening here? What can I do?

I pull myself up, wincing at the pain, and limp out of the room. I make my way into the kitchen and shut the door with a quiet click before leaning against it defensively, like I need to guard against invaders. Or, god, against my own husband.

I slowly slide down to sit on the floor, blood pounding in my ears and my bruised cheekbone pulsing like a heartbeat. A tear slides down my face and I knuckle it away. Levi’s always been my defender. His care and friendship had been so unexpected it took me ages to trust him. And now I feel like all that’s been ripped away. I must be going soft to have ever trusted him…

I go completely still. Wait. This is Levi I’m thinking about.

I trust him more than I trust myself. I know him. I know him better than anyone I’ve ever met or ever will meet. He’s my baby, my sweetheart, and I’m his. And the man I fell in love with would never ever treat me poorly. I can’t let old hurts from my childhood take over my thinking here. The Levi sitting on the other side of the door is not my Levi.

“Something is going on,” I say softly. “What is it?”

I think back of the past hour. The bath and the headache he claimed to have. The diary and the way he wrenched it from my hand. The scattered papers…

The thought slams into me with the force of another fist. The notes he was taking. Levi was using his left hand. I sit up straight. Levi is right-handed. I know that as surely as I know that his eyes are brown. I’ve had his hands caressing me enough for it to be engraved on my brain.

A small sound comes from above me, a rustling. I catch sight of movement on the counter and jump to my feet, my heart hammering. I stare as the sugar cannister lid twists and falls off with a clatter. The jar slowly topples over and sugar spills all over the wooden worktop, glittering in the light. I edge closer and my mouth drops open as letters begin to form in the granules.

I read the words appearing. Go to the side… of the cottage.

I glance at the window, the door. There’s no other sign of movement. My stomach wrenches as I think of Levi in the other room. Whoever, or whatever, wrote the message might be trying to pull me away from Levi when he needs me. I look down at the sugar and make a decision.