What We Once Were

I don’t understand what I did wrong. What did I do to deserve his hatred? Shouldn’t my husband want to be with me, want to spend time with me? As I sat on my bed, I felt more like the staff here than his spouse, the mansion’s vast emptiness amplifying my loneliness. Xander and I don’t even share a bedroom. Occasionally, when he needs to blow off steam, we are intimate, but it’s devoid of love, passion, and desire. Wiping the tears from my face, I glanced down at my black lace nightgown, a futile attempt to attract my husband’s attention. How much longer can I endure this? Should I remain in a marriage where the love isn’t returned? If only he looked at me the way he looks at his secretary, Lisa. I’ve always suspected there was more going on between them. I got up and grabbed a matching black bra and panty set that made my breasts look fuller, then threw on a pair of old denim shorts and a cute tank top. Today, I decided, I would enjoy the sun for a change, maybe catch a bit of a tan since my pale skin almost glows. I pulled my hair into a ponytail, not caring that it was a mess and needed brushing. Slipping on my flip-flops, I glanced at the makeup on my bathroom sink. “Nope, not today.” I’m not a makeup kind of girl; I don’t follow the latest fashion trends or wear high-end clothes. I’m perfectly happy in an outfit that costs thirty bucks combined from Walmart. Feeling decent, I headed downstairs. As I reached the bottom, I saw Xander in a high-quality suit, not that it was any different from usual. He glanced up at me. “Hey, you look nice as usual,” I said sheepishly. Why should I be nervous about complimenting my husband? “Well, I should. This suit was upwards of $2,000," he stated, as if it were nothing. My jaw dropped at his comment. “That is absurd. Why spend all that money on a suit when it could really help someone?” He looked at me like I had grown horns, and utterly missed his point of spending all that money on a suit. This was one thing we would never agree on, because we are so opposite each other. “Layla, I won’t be home for dinner and, well, you probably shouldn’t wait up for me,” he states. I give him a nod of acknowledgment and with that he walks out the door not so much as glancing back in my direction as his driver pulls around in front take him to work. I glanced back at the kitchen. I guess I should grab something to eat. My stomach seems a little uneasy today. I headed into the kitchen where the chef had been preparing breakfast. I could smell the aroma of bacon wafting through the kitchen, my favorite. However, as I got closer to go sit on a barstool at the island, I started to get nauseous. The chef, Maria looked at me strange as I booked it out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. I dropped to my knees on the bathroom floor in front of the toilet and proceeded to vomit up stomach acid since I hadn’t eaten anything since well probably breakfast yesterday. I have never been great at keeping up with eating regularly and often forgot to eat all together. I hadn’t even had a chance to close the bathroom door and I suddenly felt my hair being pulled out of my face as I began to wretch again. When I thought I was done I looked up, “Thank you, Maria” I said thoroughly appreciating her in this moment. “Are you okay sweetie?” Asks Maria. “I think so, I guess maybe I should go lay back down for awhile and take a nap. Maybe I will feel better later this afternoon, must just be a stomach bug.” “If you need anything at all send me a text, I am going to make some chicken soup for you Mrs. Winchester,” Marie says as she disappears into the pantry. “Maria, no formalities with me please… just call me Layla,” I say loud enough for her to hear me. Maria was a super sweet lady in her mid-forties. She was raising her 13-year-old book loving daughter, Alana, alone after her husband was presumed dead after a fishing incident during a storm off the coast of Maine. Unfortunately, the restaurant she owned when her and her husband had met, he used to bring catch of the days to her restaurant and they had created a strong relationship, she had to sell the restaurant when he passed to help put her daughter through the private school she was already attending and so they could make ends meet. Xander used to frequent her restaurant and he ran into her after she sold it and realized her, and her daughter had been sleeping in their car. He offered her a job and a place for them to live in the mansion. He also took care of Alana’s tuition and told her anytime she wanted a new book to just let him know, and he would have it ordered and delivered along with anything else they needed. I headed upstairs to go lay down, confused as I had felt mostly okay when I woke up. I laid down and opened my book to get some rest and I must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I knew I heard knocking and Maria’s sweet voice “Are you okay in there Layla?” I check the time on my phone. Holy crap it was almost 4pm, meaning I slept most of the day. I must really have needed that. I removed the book from my face and wiped the drool off both my face and the page of my book, completely disgusted that I had been drooling. I opened the door. “Sorry Maria, I must really have been ill and needed that rest.” “I’m glad you got that rest that you obviously needed. How are you feeling now,” asks Maria. I tune into my body and how it is feeling for a minute before responding, “I think I am feeling better now.” The two of us head downstairs and meet Alana, who is coming through the door. I am one of the few people Alana really has a lot of conversation with other than her mom. Alana gave me a smile; I already knew she was going to go change into something comfy and grab her book and curl up in the book window until dinner. I smiled back at her. “Alana, what book are you reading now?” I asked. “I just finished The Girl Who Loved Tom Brady by Stephen King, but now I am reading A Court of Thorn and Roses.” I gave her a knowing look, “fairy smut, huh?” She gave a slight giggle over that as Maria turned towards us asking what fairy smut was. “Guess you will just have to read it and find out Maria,” I replied with a knowing look on my face. The three of us curled up in different spots around the living room, each with a copy of the book and our dinner. I had grabbed a couple of copies from the library upstairs. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten until I heard Xander come through the door with his arm wrapped around Lisa. He looks irritated and takes her to his room. I can't handle this, the tears start pouring down, and I run out the door and down the road.