The Marriage (Darkest Lies Trilogy Book 3) Bethany-Kris (read this if txt) 📖

On the surface, the room seemed clean, modern and inviting. Like a standard hotel room, not cheap but not expensive, either. Except when she looked closer, the bright white walls meant to be welcoming were made of stone and felt like they were going to swallow her whole.

This was exactly the life she had led at her father’s home, too. Only with different walls and familiar faces keeping her company. He made sure she had everything to stay alive, which included a woman to care for her closely, and always under a watchful eye.

That wasn’t what Karine wanted anymore.

She wanted a life—to really live. Because hers thus far had seemed to consist of being a pawn someone else moved from here to there. Tiring, honestly. She wanted freedom, possibly even an adventure.

The man who said he would give it to her had been just another liar.

Karine spent the night oscillating between grief and rage—the constant rollercoaster was nearly too extreme for even her to manage. Except it never stopped. It didn’t give her the chance to get off the goddamn ride. She battled the voices in her head that were threatening to leap out. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep them at bay.

It would have been so much easier to just switch off.

Karine started to want to.

Sylvia knocked on her door the next morning, but entered without waiting for an answer.

Karine was still in bed and barely even glanced at the woman. She didn’t have the energy or interest to, and it wouldn’t make a difference. The therapist would still see the dark circles under Karine’s eyes and the bloodshot, dead stare stained with dried tears.

What a way to spend a night.

Fuck him for doing that to her.

“Looks like you didn’t eat anything last night,” Sylvia noted, her tone grating on Karine’s nerves for no particular reason. “Would you like some breakfast now? We have a large menu, and you’re welcome to mix or match anything you like. Our chef can prepare whatever you want, and you can take it wherever you’d like within your room, the halls, or the property.”

Karine lay still, with her back turned to the woman just like she had ended their conversation the night before.

She didn’t want to eat. She had no appetite. She missed Masha. And she seriously doubted any of that would mean anything to Sylvia.

“How about some pancakes? Are you a tea or a coffee person?” Sylvia continued.

“I’m a person who wants to be left the fuck alone,” she hissed in response.

“I understand that you’re frustrated and angry with your husband. I was hoping we could talk about it? A conversation could change your whole perspective, Karine.”

Karine wanted to scream.

Or laugh.

Hell, maybe both.

Why would she want to talk to this stranger? It took her so much to open up to Michelle, and even that felt like a waste now. Especially when Michelle’s name had been brought up as a facilitator to her committal here.

She would probably never see Michelle again, but that might be for the best.

“How about meditating? I heard you have a special interest in meditation. It’s actually how I like to spend my mornings, if I can. Would you join me?”

Enough.

Karine rolled over fast, and sprung up in bed, dragging the dense, heavy rubber-like sheet off her with a clenched fist. “I get you’re doing your job,” she told the woman, not hiding the venom in her voice at all, “but I want to be very clear with you. I don’t need your help. I won’t use your help. Or anybody else’s in this fucking place. Leave me alone.”

Sylvia’s smile dropped and for a split second, Karine thought the woman might lose her kind facade. No such luck. She breathed in deeply instead, suggesting quietly, “Maybe talking to your husband might help.”

Jesus Christ.

No.

Definitely not.

Karine rolled her eyes, and fell back in bed again.

What else needed said?

*

The bitch wouldn’t give up.

By the end of the day, Sylvia was back with a phone she tried to hand over to Karine. Except she still hadn’t moved from her spot on the bed, and even the buzz of her husband’s voice on the other end of the phone couldn’t entice her.

“Roman would really like to speak to you,” she whispered to Karine.

Oh, did he?

All the curtains in the room were closed, leaving Karine cloaked in darkness. Just the way she always liked it. Except when they were in the hotel suite—she’d loved the way the sunshine poured in through the glass walls, spilling over her body in the mornings.

Karine rejoiced in daylight then, but it didn’t last long.

“She’s fine—surface-wise, I mean. She just hasn’t eaten since she got here, and she’s refusing to speak to anyone, leave her room, or engage in anything else.”

Sylvia spoke with a very matter-of-fact tone into the phone. All over again, Karine could feel her cheeks burning with anger. Flushed hot and red. Once again, she was being treated like a naughty child in this place.

They’d report her bad behavior back to her husband, and what? The idea of him knowing she wouldn’t eat or talk might shame her into doing it?

That was a joke.

What would Roman do about it?

He was fucking coward, too.

“Karine, please talk to him, and you’ll feel better, I promise. Even if you’re still mad, you will feel better in a way. He’s been waiting all morning to speak with you.”

While Sylvia pleaded, Karine simply wedged both her arms between her thighs, bringing her knees up in the fetal position. This wasn’t a conversation. Only one person was speaking, after all.

“She isn’t giving me anything—yeah, I’m sorry Mr. Avdonin,” Sylvia murmured, her voice distant a bit like she had turned away.

Karine blinked at the wall. She didn’t care what they thought of her. They could write as many reports as they wanted, come up with plans for therapy if it satisfied them—but she wasn’t going to comply.

How far would they go when she continued to refuse? Restrain