Liv Constantine - The Last Mrs. Parrish

The night he came back from Paris, he was in a good mood. She had told me she was taking a few days off to go visit a friend so I wouldn’t be suspicious. But I’d known she was with him, had seen the lingerie he tucked into his suitcase at the last minute.

I was almost asleep when he walked into the bedroom and turned on a bedside lamp.

“You weren’t sleeping, were you?” He came around to my side of the bed and stood looking down at me.

“I was.”

“I’m hurt. I thought you’d be waiting up for me. You know how I miss you when I’m gone.”

My eye started twitching. I gave him a tight smile. “Of course I missed you. But I thought you’d be tired anyway.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Never too tired for you. I brought you a present.”

I sat up and waited.

It was the red and black corset I’d seen in his suitcase. I took it from him, and the smell of Incomparable wafted over me. The sick bastard wanted me to wear this after she had.

“Here are the stockings that go with it. Get up and put them on.”

“Why don’t you let me pick something out and surprise you?” I didn’t want them touching my skin after they’d been on her body.

He threw the corset at me. “Now!” He grabbed my hand and pulled me from the bed. “Arms.”

I lifted my arms, and he pulled off my nightgown so that I was standing there in only my panties.

“You’re getting fat.” He pinched the flesh on my waist and made a face. “I’m going to have to buy you a girdle soon. Don’t make any plans for the rest of the week. You’ll be spending it with the trainer every day. We have dinner at the club on Thursday, and I’ve bought you a new dress. It had better fit.” He shook his head. “Lazy bitch. Now put on the outfit your nice husband went to all the trouble of buying for you.”

I pulled the stiff fabric up over my hips and stomach. It was tight, but I managed to make it fit. My face was hot with shame, and I had to look up at the ceiling to keep from crying. When I had fastened the stockings, he made me do a pirouette for him.

He shook his head. “Looks like shit on you.” He pushed me down. “All fours.”

I fell to the floor, the hard wood sending waves of pain through my knees. Before I could brace myself, I heard his pants unzip and felt him behind me. He was rough, and I felt like I was being torn in two. When he finally finished, he stood up and looked down at me. “Still the best around, Daph.”

I felt my body go weak as I slumped to the floor in anguish. Had all of this been for nothing? Was he already tired of Amber? Now that I had allowed myself to envision a life away from him, there was no way I was giving up. One way or another, I would be free.

She must have given him an ultimatum. I heard him whispering on the phone in the bathroom last night, telling her he needed more time. She’d better play her cards right, I thought, or it could all blow up. Jackson was not a man to be threatened. I’d seen her the day before when I stopped by the office, and I could tell. She was definitely pregnant, at least three months along. I wondered if it was a boy or girl. I don’t think I’ve ever prayed so hard for anything in my life since Julie died.

All of us walked on eggshells all through dinner. I could hear his phone pinging with texts from the dining room. At one point he got up, threw his napkin on the chair, and stormed from the room. Minutes later he was back, and I didn’t hear any more texts coming in.

After I put the girls to bed, we watched a documentary on penguins. Finally, around ten, he looked at me.

“Let’s turn in.”

To my relief, he washed up, got into bed, and fell asleep. I lay there in the dark, wondering what was going on between them. I had started my period last night and had just gotten up to take something for my dull headache, then got back into bed and fell asleep.

I thought I was dreaming. Something bright was hurting my eyes, and I tried to turn but found myself immobilized. My eyes flew open. He was straddling me, shining a flashlight at them.

“Jackson, what are you doing?”

“Are you sad, Daphne?”

I shielded my eyes from the light and turned my head to the side. “What?”

He pushed my cheek so that I was looking into the light again. “Are you sad that you got your period? Another month and no baby.”

What was he talking about? Could he have somehow found out about the IUD? “Jackson, please, that hurts.”

He turned the light off, and I felt the cold steel of the gun against my neck.

He clicked the flashlight on again. Then off. On and off while the hand holding the gun pressed against my neck. “Are you laughing behind my back every month? Knowing how much I want a son?”

“Of course not. I would never laugh at you.” The words came out in a whisper.

He slid the gun from my neck up to my face and positioned it over one eye. “It would be hard to cry without an eye.”

He’s going to kill me this time.

Then he moved it to my mouth and ran it around my lips. “It would be hard to talk about me without a mouth.”

“Jackson, please. Think of the children.”

“I am thinking of the children. The ones I don’t have. The son I don’t have because you’re a withered-up old prune. But don’t worry. I have a solution.”

He moved the gun to my stomach and drew a figure eight. “It’s okay, Daphne, if you’re too used up to carry a baby in here. I’ve decided we can adopt.”

“What are you talking about?” I was too afraid to move, worried the gun would go off.

“I know someone who’s going to have a baby, and she doesn’t want it. We could take it.”

My whole body tensed. “Why would we want to adopt someone else’s baby?”

I heard him cock the gun. He leaned over and turned the lamp on so that I could see.

He smiled at me. “There’s only one bullet. Let’s see what happens. If I pull the trigger and you live, we’ll adopt. If you die, we won’t. Sound fair?”

“Please…”

I watched in terror as his finger moved back and held my breath until I heard the click. The breath whooshed out of me, and a cry escaped my lips.

“Good news. We’re going to have a son.”

Amber left the apartment on East Sixty-Second Street carrying a small suitcase, her credit card, and a wad of money. Jackson had called earlier to let her know he’d be there by nine in the evening, and she was going to make sure he walked into an empty apartment. She was tired of this waiting game. One day he was going to tell Daphne, and the next day he had an excuse for why he couldn’t. She wasn’t going to take it any longer. This was showdown time.

She’d booked a room at a small hotel under a different name. The note she left said simply:

I’m afraid you don’t love me or our son. I don’t think you have any intention of leaving Daphne to marry me. If you don’t want this child, I will see that he doesn’t come into this world.

With great sorrow,

At ten past nine her cell phone began ringing. She ignored it. In a few minutes it rang again, and once more she refused to answer. This continued for twenty minutes, and then he left a message. Amber, please. Don’t do anything foolish. I love you. Please call me.

Amber heard the pleading and panic in his voice, smiled, and turned off her ringer. Let him call all night and wonder where she was and what she’d done. She turned on the TV and laid down on the bed. This would be a long, boring night, but the time had come for a drastic move on her part. I’m not going to be the patsy again, she thought, and fell into a fitful sleep.