Time stood still as he took the time to process what I had stated. The air that was calm earlier on had turned murky as though it was preparing for a storm. Not just any typical storm - the type that would chill one's spine sensing the dangerous thunderstorm coming by. No, it was in fact a thousand times worse. Disaster was looming in, disguised in the form of disappointment and ready to intimidate me.
"Please don't degrade yourself like that. Why would you call yourself trash?" He looked crestfallen that I could not help feeling guilty.
"Because he discarded me and you picked me up," I unknowingly raised my voice. Perhaps a defensive stance to prove my point.
"Maisie, you're not an object."
"Yes but can't you see? I'm being recycled within your family." I was a ticking time bomb by now. My voice kept on raising and not far off from exploding. Whether it was the sense of foreboding that placed a shield in my heart ready to defend or maybe it was simply me trying to convince myself to step away from him.
"Can you please stop degrading yourself?" he requested in a whisper with his eyes closed. A danger sign that I should have noticed.
"I'm not. All I'm saying —"
"Enough!" His voice rang in that small bungalow. Loud enough to shut me up and send me hiccuping. "I'm sorry for yelling but I cannot allow you to degrade yourself. Must you use words like that? Trash, discard, recycled!? We're talking about you here. You're not any of it!" Despite the furious tone, his eyes were rather downcast.
What a surprise! That was the first time I have seen him incensed.
"I know I'm not any of that but that's what I will be," I clarified.
"Says who?"
"The public! They're going to think I'm marrying you for revenge," I desperately cried out, hoping we would understand what I was trying to convey.
"And we know that's not true."
"Yes, but they don't know that! Their assumptions could go even worse than one can imagine!"
"Like how even your own assumptions are thinking poorly of yourself?" He hushed. His hand was already twirling with my hair and his brown eyes gazed into mine, so full of frustration.
"Exactly!" I exclaimed, happy that he was getting my point. "That is why I think it's best we get a divorce."
He let out a disappointing sigh and covered his face with his palm. "Is this really about the public's view?"
"What do you mean? Of course it is!"
"Even if you say that, I still feel like it's not about the public, to be honest with you."
"What else could it be?" I was getting irritated by the minute. What else could he be thinking about?
He shrugged and finally said, "Maybe Alistair?"
"What?! What's Alistair got to do with this?" I pursed my lips and frowned slightly. My palms were both uplifted in the air, surprised by the sudden mention of his name.
"Oh, I don't really know, Maisie. You brought up about the public and our marriage and I haven't a clue about how they are interrelated."
Okaaaaaay…. That was weird. Why would he bring up Alistair's name only to resume talking about the original topic? Did he not understand what I was trying to say? Maybe I need to be upfront about it.
"In the eyes of the public, I am fucking all the men in your family," I said as frank as I could. "They will see me taking advantage of you, a poor vulnerable man that is being used for revenge."
"We both know it's not —"
"Yes! I know WE KNOW! But the public doesn't know!! The public will say I will be targeting someone else next in your family."
"I still don't know why are we talking about the public. Are we married to the public? Is the public truly your concern?"
Oh, bless him for being so naïve about this world. The scrutiny of the public alone could kill someone by their words. Maybe being born with a silver spoon in his mouth prevented him from being exposed by the evil nature of the public just yet.
"Yes! Think about your reputation! You could have a better spouse if I'm not in the picture!" My hand slammed against the table repeatedly to prove a point as though the drumming sound would assist in making him understand.
To my surprise, another bout of sigh escaped his lips. His head shook ever so slightly and rested against his hand. "My reputation or Alistair's?" Even his voice sounded tired.
"What?! Why do you keep on talking about Alistair?" I peeked through the gaps of his fingers, trying to catch a glimpse of his face and assessed his body language. But it was hard to tell with his eyes shut.
"Do you still love him?" He muttered under his breath.
It was barely audible yet my sense of hearing managed to catch it. I was floored. "What? This isn't about him."
His brown eyes peeped between his fingers and I could see the weariness emitting from them. "Be honest with me. Do you?"
"W-Why are we even talking about him?" I stuttered, dodging the dangerous question all the same. My eyes flitted from left to right and my fingers were busily picking on my skin.
Maybe he was attentive or maybe it was a coincidence but he grabbed my hand and interlocked it with his while his other hand was rubbing gently against the tender area.
"You know what? You're right. I'm sorry," he said. He patted my hands and then stood up from his seat.
While his apologies sounded sincere, something felt off. It was as though he knew why I deflected his question. I mean rationally, of course it would be a lie if I said no. After all, time did not flow for me as it did to him. Was I supposed to fall for him just because he cared for me the moment I opened my eyes?