Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

“You’re back.” Vivian swallowed and greeted him, “Did work go smoothly today?”

“That’s none of your business.” Alajos walked indifferently towards the dining table and poured himself a glass of water.

His attitude infuriated Vivian, but she didn’t want to argue with him. Suppressing her sense of grievance, she explained, “I just wanted to show some concern for you.”

Alajos shot her a stern glance.

“OK, let’s not talk about this.” Vivian put down her laptop and followed him into the kitchen. “Do you need something to eat? Haylee left you dinner; it just needs to be reheated.”

“Stop it, Vivian.” Alajos frowned, his arms crossed over his chest. “You should be going to sleep now instead of putting on a play here.”

“A play?”

“Yes, pretending to care about me, to be concerned with my well-being, to prepare dinner for my health.”

“I’m not pretending to care about you,” Vivian said angrily as she slammed the refrigerator door shut. “I just don’t want our relationship to be full of indifference and neglect. You’re my husband.”

“This is how our relationship works. Every proper alliance should be like this, an exchange of interests without care or concern.”

“It’s not like that.” Vivian’s heart ached as she looked at the indifferent Alajos before her-it hadn’t always been this way.

Vivian’s tears softened Alajos. His tone was not as harsh. “It should be this way. Love and affection are weaknesses, and I cannot allow myself to become someone weak, addicted to love. That would be foolish.”

“Are we going to continue like this?” Vivian wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes. “Coldly ignoring each other, not talking, not touching?”

“There will be touches,” Alajos said. “You are my wife; you need to bear me an heir.” His icy words were truly hurtful. “If necessary, I will come to you.”

Vivian stared at him in shock. What did he take her for, a prostitute?This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

Her voice trembled, “What if I don’t want to? Are you going to rape me?”

“I’ve told you, I won’t force you,” Alajos replied with such rationality. “I will do as other high-ranking men do, keep a qualified mistress who will bear me a son.”

“You won’t do that!” Vivian shouted.

“That’s not certain.” Alajos shrugged nonchalantly. “After all, keeping a mistress is something to brag about among men of status.”

“You’re not that kind of person. You won’t.” Vivian stamped her foot in anger, her blue eyes filled with rage.

“Don’t be angry, dear. You should be happy with my decision.” Alajos mocked. “Think about how you used to despise the idea of sleeping together before we got married. I always felt that without sex, you would be quite happy to marry me.”

Vivian wanted to scream that it wasn’t true, but she couldn’t refute it. She had indeed felt that way once, and even now, she still feared the idea of sleeping with Alajos.

But she couldn’t accept the idea of Alajos keeping a mistress, even if he could calmly discuss it in front of her, it didn’t mean his words were a joke. Her father had many mistresses, and her mother knew but was powerless to resist; she had to share her husband with many women.

There were many women like her mother, and Alajos was right-high-ranking men did like to keep mistresses and boast about how flirtatious and enchanting they were. Their pitiful wives had to hide at home, silently weeping, then dress up brightly to attend banquets with their husbands, numbly accepting others’ pitying gazes.

Vivian had once expressed sympathy for them; she did not want to become such a woman. Standing by Capo’s side, what she should have received were envious and jealous glances.

“You don’t understand me at all,” Vivian said, wiping away her tears, her eyes red. “I just hoped to get along with you peacefully, like friends.”

Alajos looked at her coldly. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes told Vivian how ridiculous her thoughts were.

“You can’t give me the love I want, yet you demand that I sleep with you, bear you an heir. I refuse you, and you ignore me, give me the silent treatment, and even consider keeping a mistress. You are truly a selfish man, Alajos.”

“You’re right, I am a selfish man,” Alajos said as he started searching through the fridge behind her.

Vivian covered her eyes in grief; she was so disappointed in Alajos. “Talking with you is truly heartbreaking, Alajos.”

VivVivian ran out of the kitchen, supporting herself on the staircase as she returned to Alajos’ room-now also her room. She had lived there long enough, from the second day of their marriage until now, over a month. But the room hardly carried her scent. Each time Vivian pushed the door open and entered, she was greeted by the fragrance of Alajos’ cologne.

It was a terrible thing, and her mood plummeted. She had lost a space that was solely hers. She had to share everything with Alajos-her room, the bathroom, the bed… including her body.

…

Vivian was awakened by sunlight; Alajos was gone from the bed, just as she had anticipated. She didn’t know exactly when he had left, but she guessed it must have been very early to perfectly avoid her upon waking up.

Annoyed by Alajos’ stubbornness and coldness, Vivian had no way to change his behavior and was forced to accept his deliberate cold shoulder as she got up and began her morning routine.

Luzia was supposed to visit her aunt, Mrs. Yazmin, today; she must have already left since Vivian didn’t find her in the dining room.

Haylee had already prepared breakfast for Vivian-eggs, bacon, and hot milk. Vivian wasn’t fond of hot milk, but faced with Haylee’s bright, expectant eyes, she finished it anyway.

Haylee was delighted, humming a tune as she cleaned the dishes. She began to prepare the ingredients for lunch.

Vivian, unable to help much, returned to the living room and turned on the TV, finding no particular program of interest.

Without Luzia, she felt a silent loneliness. This made Vivian somewhat anxious. Luzia was just visiting her aunt and would return in the evening to keep her company, yet Vivian already felt lonely. She didn’t dare to think about the near future when Luzia would go to live in Los Angeles with Joseph-how dull her life would become.

Waking up every day to an empty bed in her bedroom, her husband busy with work during the day, returning home only to treat her with indifference, eating alone, sleeping alone, watching TV alone, shopping alone, doing everything alone that would only be joyous with another person… The thought alone was maddening.

To her relief, Vilem came, still nursing injuries that hadn’t fully healed. Fortunately, he seemed in good spirits and no longer needed a wheelchair, though he still walked with a limp.