Housewife

The violet sky casts a final glimpse of neon blue and orange before bidding the sun goodbye, leaving behind splinters of light to dance over the sleepy streets of Paris.

Just as I stand next to my luggage, Nirali appears, a vision of grace and kindness. ‘Grateful for hospitality, Nirali,’ I murmur, accepting the black luggage from her outstretched hands. As I sigh, feeling the overwhelming fatigue of travel, Nirali reaches out to me with concern. But I shy away from her touch, recoiling from human contact.

Her expression twisted in a dance of embarrassment at her forgetfulness.

‘I’m sorry,’ she stammered. ‘Abel mentioned your aversion to touch and yet here I am.’ I tried to muster a smile, weak as it may be. ‘No need to apologize.’

I scooped up my baggage and sauntered towards my car. Suddenly, a voice broke through the air like a warm ray of sunshine. ‘Irena,’ Nirali called out, her gaze brimming with tenderness. ‘If you need anything at all, just give me a ring. Anything, okay?’ Her words were overflowing with unconditional care, flooding my heart with warmth. ‘You’re too kind,’ I murmured, but Nirali shook her head, her eyes emanating pure affection. ‘It’s just what family does. We have to look out for each other.’

At the mere mention of family lending support to one another, my skin crawls with unease. A fleeting moment of sorrow trickles out of my soul, as I remain oblivious to what a contented family truly embodies, and the realization hits me like a tidal wave.

Beyond being bound by genetics, family manifests as a vital network of mutual care and solidarity. The beauty of family lies in the knowledge that, come what may, unwavering support will be close at hand. During life’s most difficult moments, families have the power to rally together and conquer adversity, while sharing in moments of pure joy. With a strong sense of community, familial ties facilitate the fostering of a nourishing emotional and mental environment that benefits each member.

But with mine, it is far opposite from that. Growing up in a toxic family environment can have a profound impact on a person’s life, and I am no exception to this. The first thing that comes to mind when I think about my childhood is the constant tension and conflict that pervaded my household.

My uncles would often argue with me, and our fights would escalate into screaming matches that could last for hours. Even when we weren’t fighting, there was still an underlying tension that never seemed to go away.

As a child, I learned to tiptoe around my uncle’s houses and avoid doing anything that might upset them. I became very good at anticipating their moods and adjusting my behaviour accordingly. Unfortunately, this also meant that I didn’t get to be a carefree kid, like so many others. I was always on edge and worried about making my uncle’s angry, which kept me from fully enjoying my childhood.

Another aspect of growing up in a toxic family environment is the lack of emotional support. My uncles weren’t the type to offer encouragement or praise. Instead, they were quick to criticize and find fault with everything I did. This led to a constant sense of self-doubt and a belief that I wasn’t good enough.

It’s hard to overstate the impact that growing up in a toxic family has had on my adult life. I’ve struggled with anxiety and depression for years, and I’m still working to overcome the negative patterns and beliefs that were ingrained in me as a child. I don’t know what love looks like, I don’t know what being loved feels like.

I’m simply just a person who is not capable of loving or being loved.

I push back the overwhelming feeling and force a small smile on my face.

“Yeah, we take care of each other,” I utter to Nirali.

Towering above us in his black and white suit, the imposing figure of Saint’s driver sends a chill down my spine – I’m about to cross the point of no return. Standing beside me, Nirali suggests we hang out soon, a wry grin playing at the edges of her lips. I nod, my mind already consumed by the daunting prospect of entering that car.

Before I can even gather my wits about me, the driver speaks, his voice as frigid as an arctic breeze. I meet his steely gaze with trepidation, wishing for a way out of this. But there’s no avoiding what lies ahead. Turning to Nirali one last time, I forced a smile. ‘I’ll see you later?’

‘Looking forward too,’ she says with a smile. I wave goodbye, deftly dodging the burly man before slipping into the sleek black SUV. As I settle into my seat, I patiently wait for my luggage to be loaded. The driver climbs in and brings the car to life with a satisfying growl.

Turning to glance at Nirali, I catch her eye before we pull out of their magnificent driveway. I nod farewell to the Nirali and take a deep sigh, letting my head rest on the cool window. The trees whip past us, but my mind is elsewhere.

Saint’s grand abode was a sprawling fortress of solitude, a regal palace seemingly built for royalty.

It took a good forty minutes to traverse the winding roads that led to this mammoth mansion of opulence, with its grandiose dimensions twice that of Abel’s humble abode.

Yet despite its impressive façade, inside lay an eerie stillness; the vast halls and empty spaces devoid of any human presence. It was a ghostly refuge that whispered with secrets, waiting for the right tenant to bring it back to life.

As I step into the house, the vast space feels like a breath of fresh air. The lack of bulky furniture allows the room to breathe and bathe in the sunshine that pours in through the wall-wide window at the end of the foyer. The view is breathtaking – the Eiffel Tower towers over the City of Love in all its glory.

Lush greenery and exquisite artwork adorn the walls of the foyer, lending an air of sophistication to the space. The luxurious marble flooring is a sight to behold, gleaming in the light that filters through the stunning chandelier above.

To my left, the living room is a minimalist masterpiece. A sleek black sofa takes center stage, flanked by two formidable grey vases that add a touch of gravitas to the room. A massive flat-screen television adorns the wall, beckoning you to take a seat and lose yourself in your favourite movie. The grand coffee table stands proud, inviting you to rest your feet as you take in the breathtaking views that surround you.

As I approach the grand entrance of the house, I am greeted with an unencumbered view of the driveway and a magnificent fountain. My heels create a symphony of sound as they cling onto the pristine floor, echoing throughout the silence. My excitement builds as I take in the grandeur of this majestic abode. As I stepped into the kitchen, the aroma of freshly baked bread along with the sound of sizzling vegetables on the stove filled my senses. The kitchen was illuminated with natural light filtering in through the large window, making the space look warm and inviting. The tiles on the floor were warm to the touch, and the counters were made of polished marble, adding a touch of luxury to the space.

A large wooden table stood at the center of the room, surrounded by an assortment of chairs of different sizes and shapes, giving the kitchen a cozy, eclectic feel. The cabinets were made of dark oak; each one with its own intricate carving, adding depth and character to the kitchen. The open shelves that lined the walls were adorned with various bowls, jars, and plates, adding a touch of colour to the otherwise earthy tones of the kitchen.

The stove was a thing of beauty, its gleaming steel surface giving off a sense of modernity and sophistication. A row of copper pots hung above it, adding a touch of old-world charm to the space. A large sink filled with freshly washed produce stood in the corner, with a tap that glistened under the light, adding to the overall shine of the space.

As I looked around, taken in by the beauty of the kitchen, I noticed a door that led to a small pantry, filled with shelves stocked with various spices, condiments, and dry goods. The large pantry had a slightly musky smell, giving it a sense of character and history, making it even more charming.

As I venture towards the far end of the room, my curiosity is piqued by an open space that leads to another room.

Eagerly, I make my way towards it, my heart beating with anticipation.

As my eyes behold the carefully lined dispensers of wine and whiskey, a mischievous grin forms on my lips. ‘I’m going to have a blast with these,’ I whisper to myself, ready to indulge in the high life.

I hate to admit it, but the truth is that I am an alcoholic. It’s a shameful secret that I keep locked away, hidden from the world. Just like everyone else, I have my own methods of dealing with life’s hardships. Some people turn to exercise or meditation, while others seek therapy. For me, alcohol is my escape. I know it’s not healthy, and I’m well aware of the consequences, but I can’t seem to quit. It’s like an old friend who always knows how to make me feel better, even if it’s only temporary.

When I drink, all the trauma and pain from my past disappear, only for a little while.

I emerged from the wine cel ar and glided through the glistening kitchen until I found myself back on the grand thoroughfare.

As I roamed through the sprawling mansion, my eyes were treated to an endless parade of stunning sights. Each new room seemed to open like a treasure chest, revealing yet another visual delight. Majestic bedrooms beckoned me with their lush bedding and intricate furnishings, while private studies tempted me with the promise of ancient books and antique artifacts.

As I moved about the sprawling expanse of the mansion, I found myself ensconced in a world of timeless luxury. Expansive dining rooms dazzled with soaring ceilings and towering windows, while cozy sitting rooms beckoned with plush cushions and bespoke furnishings.

But it was the bathrooms that truly stole my breath away. Gleaming marble floors led me into spaces filled with exquisite fixtures and divine pampering.

Every detail, from the fluffy towels to the scented candles, had been selected with the utmost care to ensure that guests were enveloped in the ultimate indulgence.

As I take a look to my left, my pace slows down until I final;y spot a mysterious, shut door that stands out from the rest due to its black coat.

Intrigued, I make my way towards it until I’m standing right in front of it.

Without hesitation, I turn the knob and give it a gentle push, allowing the door to creak open.

As I walk into the room, I’m engulfed in a world of monochromatic sophistication. The first thing that catches my eye is the charcoal-black accent wall at the foot of the bed. The wall captures the attention of the beholder with its striking deep colour and smooth texture.

The curtains that adorn the large window are black too, providing a perfect complement to the accent wall.

The king-sized bed rests in the center of the room, and its stark white bedding immediately draws my attention. The sheets and duvet cover have a simple but elegant design that seamlessly blends with the rest of the room.

On the bed, soft black throw pillows add a pop of colour while maintaining the black-and-white aesthetic.

The bedside tables are minimalistic, with black metal frames supporting a simple white tabletop. A sleek black lamp sits atop each of the tables, providing ample lighting for bedtime reading. Black frames surround photos of past travels and loved ones, adding a more personal touch to the room.

The floors are covered with a soft white shaggy rug that tantalizingly begs my bare feet to sink into its plushness. The white rug contrasts nicely with the black floor-length drapes flowing to the ground.

When I sit on the comfortable chair positioned by the window, I’m greeted with a breathtaking view of the city skyline. With the black and white furnishing, the view is even more spectacular, providing a perfect balance between the decor and the view.

The room exudes a sense of luxury, without being too flashy or overpowering. It’s characterized by simplicity, elegance, and sophistication, which all contribute to creating a calming and relaxing atmosphere. Whether you need to unwind after a long day or enjoy a peaceful night’s sleep, this space provides the perfect environment for both.

My heart sinks as I realize that this is the master bedroom of Saint.

As I step into the luxurious black and white bathroom, I’m instantly surrounded by a sense of timeless elegance and sophistication. The monochrome decor seems to transport me to a bygone era where attention to detail was paramount and luxury defined the essence of everyday living.

The bright, gleaming white marble floors blend seamlessly with the rich, dark walls to create an atmosphere of refined elegance, while the carefully placed lighting fixtures gently illuminate each corner of the room.

The centerpiece of my attention is a striking freestanding tub that screams comfort and indulgence. The sleek, matte black finish perfectly complements the white walls and floors, and the chrome fixtures add a dash of contemporary edge to the otherwise classic decor. As I run my fingers along the smooth edges of the tub, I can’t help but appreciate the attention to every little detail, frosted glass tiles making an appearance in the shower and the back wall adding a bit of edge. If Saint and I could tolerate each other we would enjoy the double-sink marble vanity and give each other the full care.

Unfortunately, every time we find ourselves in the same space, we behave more like feral cats and ferocious dogs than civilized humans.

The marble countertop is perfectly complemented by the modern silver faucets, with carved imagery adding an extra touch of detail that catches the eye. The ample storage space offered by the sleek black cabinets beneath the sink ensures that every toiletry item I need is right where I want it, eliminating any clutter and adding to the clean and organized feel of the space.

To make my bath time even more indulgent, natural light fills the room from the ceiling-to-floor windows, showcasing an understated garden beyond. The privacy of frosted windows ensures that my personal quarters remain intimate yet welcoming. The sheer indulgence of this black-and-white luxury bathroom is something to appreciate and cherish every day. I’ll never want to leave the comfort and pristine elegance of this stunning space.

As if struck by a bolt of inspiration, a brilliant idea flashes across my mind.

What if I indulge in a luxurious soak while savouring the exquisite vintage wines treasured by Saint? With the house all to myself and no inkling of when Saint might return, I refuse to let this opportunity escape me.

Without a moment to lose, I hasten downstairs to the kitchen, bounding towards the wine haven with feverish excitement. Plucking out the choicest bottle and snatching up a dainty wine glass, I race back up to the master bedroom with a skip in my step.

Eagerly, I saunter into the bathroom, carefully placing the bottle and glass on the pebbled table adjacent to the tub.

I run the water and add vanil a and lavender essential oils that I found in the cabinet then stripped out of my clothes.

As I step into the warm water, the scent of lavender and chamomile fills my senses. The candles around the tub flicker softly, casting a gentle glow on the room. I sink deep into the water, feeling the tension in my muscles slowly start to release. My mind clears, and I’m free to think about nothing but the soothing sensation of the water.

I reach for the wine bottle and pour myself the red liquid into the glass sitting on the stone table beside me. The deep burgundy liquid swirls inside, reflecting the candlelight. I take a sip and let the sweet, fruity taste wash over me. The wine adds a new layer of relaxation to the experience, and I feel my body start to loosen even more.

The bubbles in the water tickle my skin, and I rest my head against the edge of the tub. I let out a contented sigh, feeling completely at ease. The warmth of the water and the taste of the wine combine to create a luxurious and indulgent atmosphere.

As I close my eyes and let the calming ambiance envelop me, a sense of tranquillity washes over me. I know that this moment is mine and mine alone, and I savour it fully. Everything else fades away, and for a few precious moments, I’m free to simply be.

A whiff of fruity aroma reaches my nostrils as I bring the glass to my lips, the first sip rolling down my throat and igniting a warmth within my chest.

I take another sip as the wine swirls in my mouth, the smoothness of the texture captivating my senses. Soon enough, I find myself gulping the liquid in a hasty way. My taste buds are mesmerized and my mind is clouded, as I let the bottle empty itself into my glass.

With each sip of the wine, the room begins to blur before my eyes, my inhibitions slipping away with every passing moment. I find myself lost in a sea of colours and sounds of stillness, my feet no longer grounded as the world around me spins. Everything around me seems to be moving in slow motion.

As the alcohol starts to take a firm grip on my consciousness, emotions take over and pour out in a torrent of reckless behaviour. I find myself being bold and uninhibited, wanting to say and do things I may not have the courage for if I were sober.

The wine has loosened my mind, and I feel the euphoria within my bones.

I dance my worries away, laugh without a care, and forget any and all responsibilities. The world has become a place that is meant to be enjoyed, and I’m here to soak it all up.

My heart skips a beat when I hear the door close and the thump of footsteps echoing towards the kitchen. Instinctively, I halt mid-step, the delicate straps of my pink satin robe brushing against my skin as I clutch my glass of wine tightly.

A moment later, Saint strides into the kitchen, his white shirt splattered with crimson speckles and his forearms bulging with sinewy veins. My eyes meet his, a crackling tension sparking between us as he glances down at my wineglass before snapping back to my gaze. Then, his eyes flicker to the almost-empty bottle of wine resting on the countertop.

Without a preamble, he grunts, ‘You didn’t cook?’ I scrunch my nose, frustration bubbling inside me. ‘You weren’t home,’ I reply, drawing out each word with an air of nonchalance.

‘In any case, it falls upon your shoulders as the dutiful wife to whip up a meal. It matters not if I’m present or absent – cooking is your responsibility,’

he pronounces. As if struck by a match, fury begins to blaze through my veins.

I let out a sigh and moved towards the counter before sitting down heavily on the stool. ‘Saint, it’s already past 11. I don’t see the point of cooking when there’s nobody else to eat it. If you want to have dinner ready for you every day even when you’re late, hire someone. Otherwise, we’ll just be wasting food,’ I say calmly as I casually take a sip from my drink.

‘And while we’re making demands, could you perhaps refrain from coming back home stained in blood?’ I request, casually.

“It’s not mine.” He says.

“I don’t care.” I assert.

The air crackled with an electric intensity as our eyes locked in a vicious stare. We stood, poised like duelling predators, the hatred between us was palpable, thrumming with a raw animosity that threatened to boil over at any moment. It was as if the very fabric of the world strained under the weight of our enmity, stretching taut like a bowstring ready to snap. Every fiber of our beings seemed to vibrate with fury, and all we could do was stand there, bristling with the loathing that consumed us.

Saint approached me cautiously, eyes fixed on mine as he stood merely a foot away.

With a knowing sniff, he pointed out what was already unmistakably clear to me: ‘You’re drunk.’

My response was sharp, lined with the bitterness of truth. ‘Thank you for your astute observation. Now kindly leave me to revel in my high, won’t you?’

But instead of acquiescing Saint – with the swift movement of a man on a mission – snatched my wine away from me, pouring the precious liquid down the sink. At that moment, my heart sank; it was as if my hopes and dreams were being funnelled away with the liquid.

‘What was the point of that?’ I demanded, my voice rank with annoyance.

Answering with a fury that left no doubts about the depth of his emotion, Saint declared, ‘The point was to get your attention.’ And it worked, I had to admit – I was hanging on his every word as he moved even closer.

‘Listen and listen closely, Doe.’ His voice was commanding and powerful, begging to be heeded. ‘I don’t want to come home to a drunk wife. I want dinner on the table and I want you ready for me.’

But his words felt like a noose tightening around my neck, squeezing out all my patience with him. I cringed, rolling my eyes. ‘Don’t call me ‘doe’,’ I demanded pointedly. ‘My name is Irena. And secondly, I didn’t sign up for your brand of submission. And finally, how dare you tell me how to handle my drinking? You don’t know what it’s like to need a damn drink just to wade through this hell that we call our marriage.’

I was done with playing the obedient wife after Viktor. It was time for Saint to hear the truth about how I was really feeling.

My eyes shot daggers at him while he shook his head in utter disbelief. ‘I understand where you’re coming from, but justifying your reckless behaviour with an excuse won’t change the fact that you’re dragging us down with you,’ he spoke sternly. A laugh dripped from my lips as I let out my pent-up bitterness. ‘Dragging you down with me? Oh, you must be mistaken, Saint. You were already drowning in your misery long before I showed up!’ I seethed, shoving him as fury erupted from within.

‘Irena, you exude such arrogance,’ Saint murmurs with a tinge of disgust in his voice. I let out a dry laugh, relishing in the power of my own conviction as I run my tongue along my teeth and suck them, eliciting a sharp tsk sound.

With every word he utters, the weeks of pent-up anger suddenly explode inside of me like a volcano. I refuse to be relegated to the position of a meek and mild wife who serves up meals and kowtows to his every whim.

‘You want a submissive wife? Fine. I’ll give you exactly that, Saint,’ I retort with an icy calm that masks my seething rage. Pushing past him, my shoulder grazes him as I storm out of the kitchen.

What was the point of this marriage if it was just going to be endless bickering and pointless arguments? If it meant resorting to the same tactics I had used on Viktor, so be it.