Tonight, we kill our husbands

CHAPTER TWO

Kate’s POV

People think the Roosevelts are a flawless family. With the latest cars packed in state-of-the-art garages and perfectly mowed lawns, everything looks good from the outside. But what they don’t know is, beneath all that glitz is a home devoid of peace.

James likes to remind me of that.

The car ride home from the Harts’ is silent, only the rumbling of thunder and splattering sound of rain against the windshield can be heard. As we drive by, I keep my hands folded neatly on my lap and gaze at a house in the cornfield. Such a simple family, I muse. I bet love lives there.

“Pride isn’t always the word? What on earth did you mean by that?” James suddenly asks. I turn my head, confused. “What?”

“At dinner,” he says. “It was just a reply. Don’t think too much of it, James,” I respond, watching my tone as I speak. “And what was that with Emily? Are you trying to make me look bad?” he asks, tightening his hands around the steering wheel. ”James, please it was nothing. I just wanted to give you guys some space.” Anyone could hear the fear in my voice, watching the tendons in his knuckles bulge out. The car ride returns to being silent. In my head, I’m hoping he forgets about dinner and goes to bed.

When we pull into the driveway, James storms out of the car and slams the door in my face. I drag my feet lazily, holding my dress in one hand and clutching my purse in the other. “Kate, get in here!” he barks. Upstairs, in our room, James sits at the edge of the bed, loosening his tie. I can see his reflection in the mirror, staring at me like a hunter to its prey, as I take off my earrings. “Maybe I should lock you up and never let you see the light of day,” he says, coming closer to me. “This is why I don’t take you out,” he finally snaps, pulling my hair from behind. I fall off the chair, holding my hair as he drags me across the room. “James, please. Stop this!” I cry out. “You’d never do this if my father were alive.” “To hell with your father and his bloody family,” he retorts. “I’m nobody’s dog, Kate. Not you, not your father’s.” I can feel strands of my hair falling out, and my tears won’t stop flowing. He finally lets go of me. He barges into the bathroom and turns the tap on. He washes vigorously as though heavy water pressure and some body wash were enough to wash away one’s sins. I curl up in the corner of the room, sobbing. I loved this man so much, I couldn’t see a life without him. And what did I get in return, nothing but heartache and a bruised body.

“Go and take a bath,” he says, running his towel on his wet hair. “You know I can’t stand that musty smell of sweat. As I wash myself, the flow of water mixes with my tears till there’s no distinction. By the time I’m done, he is fast asleep. How does he sleep like an infant after doing the unthinkable, I wonder. I lay beside him, my heart pounding and my skin hurting. The house is finally silent, but Emily’s words still linger in my head: We must do this again soon. There was something in her eyes tonight, as though she saw me, in a way no one else did. For the first time in years, I feel less alone. I close my eyes to sleep but sleep eludes me. “I can’t keep living like this,” I mutter under my breath, as I turn off the bed light.

You’d think that daylight would bring me some form of respite, but it’s no different from the nighttime horror, only more subtle. James wakes up early, so must I. If I linger in bed or move too slowly, it irritates him. So I rise when he does, even though my first meeting of the day is still hours away. We’re all dressed up and at the table. Breakfast is served. It’s bacon and eggs with a cup of coffee. James knows I hate bacon, but I would rather not complain. “We have a meeting with the shareholders today,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee. “And I’m only finding out this morning?” I ask, shocked. “You know I have an idea to pitch to them, James. This company is also mine.” “Nobody’s disputing the fact that it’s your company. It was a last-minute meeting and I forgot to let you know,” he responds with a frown on his face. “Just be there on time. Stop giving the shareholders a reason to doubt your capability as CEO.” “What’s that supposed to mean, James?” I ask, trying not to sound infuriated. “Are you still asking questions? Eat your food. We need to be out of here in fifteen minutes.” What did he mean by that, I wonder.

After breakfast, we drive to the firm together. He insists on it. He is hell bent on maintaining our status as the golden couple, the supportive spouse that wants to see his wife win. How long will this charade hold, James? How long before people see who you really are? At the firm, I retreat to my office. I see the way he looks at me when I walk through the door with my name plastered as CEO. The way the staff accord me respect, makes his skin crawl.

The conference room is filled with half a dozen executives. Our Chinese shareholders are also present. James is in his element, talking about the Wentworth deal. Everyone seems to be pleased by this move. “We should expect a double return on investment,” he says. “This is impressive, James. You’ve outdone yourself this time,” one of the shareholders responds. “Urrm…there’s something I’d like to bring to the table. It would be great for Roosevelt Holdings,” I try to chime in. “Kate, darling,” James interrupts. “One project at a time, it helps us focus better.” The board seems to agree with him. It’s truly a man’s world, I can’t even get a say at my father’s company. The meeting is finally over. James has gone out for lunch, at least, that’s what he told me. I order some takeaway, and sit by myself. I think about the events of last night and my eyes start to water. I wasn’t a fearful or weak woman. James broke something in me when he started putting his hands on me. “Something has to change, and it has to change fast,” I mutter.