Danielle Steel - Matters of the Heart

“And Robert?”

“He’s the attorney.”

“He gave you his home and cell numbers? You fucked him at the hotel, didn’t you, you little slut. And who were you fucking in New York? Your agent? Or some guy you picked up at a bar? A trucker on Tenth Avenue maybe while you took his picture.” He knew she went to places like that to take photographs, and he used it against her now. “Did you take pictures of his cock?” He spat the words in her face, and Hope started to cry. He had never talked to her like that before, or been as crude. He was starting to cross boundaries he never had. Robert had warned her that he would, and she didn’t believe him. “What about Robert? Was he good? Not as good as I am, I’ll bet.” Hope didn’t comment. She just sat there at the table looking paralyzed and ashamed. He made her feel like a tramp, and she had done nothing wrong. She had seen a lawyer and had dinner, and would never have considered doing anything more. It didn’t cross her mind. That wasn’t who she was. But he accused her of it, with venom in his eyes and poison in his mouth.

“Nothing happened, Finn. I met with a lawyer, that’s all.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“Because sometimes my business is private.” And even if it had been business, he would have insisted on coming with her. He never let her do anything alone. It was all about control. He even wanted to go to the doctor with her, as he had to the fertility doctor in London. He was intrusive, and wanted to be in full control of her at all times.

“How private was it?” he asked, looking at her, and this time she was sure he’d been drinking. If not, he was insane. And maybe he was that too. He looked like a crazy person as he glared at her, knocked his chair back until it fell, and paced around the kitchen, while she watched him, trying not to anger him further. She sat very still, praying that he’d back down.

“You know I wouldn’t do anything like that,” she said, trying to sound calmer than she felt.

“I don’t know shit about you, Hope. And you know even less about me.” It was probably the most honest thing he had ever said to her about himself, but the way he said it wasn’t reassuring. “For all I know, you’re a whore who blows every guy you meet whenever I’m not around.” If Hope had dreamed of finding the old Finn when she got there, she had encountered the new Finn instead, an even newer one, who was worse. The real one.

“Why don’t we calm down and eat dinner. Nothing happened in Dublin. I spent the night in a hotel alone. That’s all.” She sat straight in her chair, looking dignified and small, and before she knew what had happened, he grabbed her out of her chair, and slammed her up against the wall. She nearly flew across the room in his grip, and let out a gasp as she hit the wall with her back, and he lowered his face next to hers.

“If you ever fuck anyone, Hope, I’ll kill you. Do you understand that? Is that clear to you? I won’t put up with that from you. Get that through your head right now.” She nodded, unable to speak, while tears choked her throat. She could hear a grinding in her ears from when he’d slammed her against the wall, and she was sure it was the sound of her heart breaking. “Answer me! Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered. She was sure that he was drunk. He wouldn’t behave that way if he weren’t. But if so, they had to do something about it. Or he did. He was under a lot of stress over the lawsuit and the books he had to write. It was obviously driving him over the edge, and now her with it.

He slammed her back into her seat then, and glared at her while she pecked at her dinner. The look in his eyes was not one she recognized. She had never seen him that way before, and it occurred to her as she moved the pasta around her plate and pretended to eat it that she was alone in the house with him. Winfred and Katherine went home at dinnertime, and she was alone with Finn every night until morning. It had never worried her before, but it did now for the first time.

There were no more outbursts during dinner. He didn’t say a word to her. He took the piece of paper with Robert’s numbers on it, shredded it, and then shoved the pieces into the pocket of his jeans so she couldn’t find them. He left the pad and passport on the table. And then without a word, he left the room, and left her to clean up. She sat for a long time at the table, with tears streaming down her cheeks and choking on sobs. And he had made the point earlier. She was alone in the world now. All she had was him. She had nowhere to turn, and no one to love her. With Paul gone, she felt like an orphan in a fairy tale, and the handsome prince was turning into a wild beast.

It took her an hour to calm down and clean up the kitchen. She spent most of it crying, and was afraid to go upstairs, but she knew she had to. And when she thought about it calmly, she realized that the fact that she’d spent the night in Dublin didn’t look good. The piece of paper with Robert’s numbers on it looked suspicious. She could see why he was upset, since she had lied to him about it when she’d arrived. She realized that she should have told him the truth about when she was coming, but if she had, she would never have been able to meet with Robert and she was glad she had. It had been helpful and good to know that she could turn to someone somewhere, if she needed to, to help her. And he was at least nearby. But she could also understand that Finn was upset that she had disappeared for a day and lied to him about her arrival. Although it had been innocent, she felt guilty about it, and in some way didn’t blame him.

She dreaded going upstairs to see him, and was surprised to find when she did, that he was sitting in bed waiting for her. He looked peaceful and as though the scene in the kitchen hadn’t happened. Seeing him go from one mood to the extreme opposite like that was terrifying. One moment brimming with rage like a dragon, the next calmly in bed, smiling at her. She wasn’t sure if he was crazy or she was, and she stood looking at him for a moment, with absolutely no idea what to say.

“Come to bed, Hope,” he said, as though they’d had a pleasant evening, which they certainly hadn’t. It had been anything but that, and now he looked like it had never happened. Watching him lie there, all innocence, made her want to cry.

She got into bed cautiously beside him a few minutes later, after brushing her teeth and putting on her nightgown. She glanced at him as though he were a poisonous snake about to strike.

“Everything is fine,” he said to her soothingly, and put an arm around her. It was almost worse than if he were still angry at her. This was just too confusing. “I was thinking,” he said easily, as she lay there stiffly beside him, waiting to see what would come next. It was impossible to relax now. “I think we should get married next week. There is no reason for us to be waiting. We’re not going to have a wedding anyway, with people coming from far away. And I don’t want to wait any longer. We’re all alone in the world, Hope, you and I. If anything ever happens to either of us, like what just happened to Paul, we should be married. No one wants to die alone.”

“Paul was very sick, for a long time. And I was with him,” she said in a choked voice.

“If either of us has an accident, the other would be unable to make decisions. You don’t have kids or family. Michael’s not here for me. We only have each other.” It was a recurring theme for him tonight, to emphasize her solitude and remind her that she only had him to rely on. “I’d feel better if we were legally married. We can always have a party later, in London, New York, or Cape Cod. It’s time, Hope, it’s been a year. We’re grown-ups. We love each other. We know what we want. There’s no point waiting. And we need to get going on the baby project again,” he said, smiling at her. It was as though the scene in the kitchen had never happened. An hour before, he had been threatening her and slamming her into a wall, and now he wanted to get married in a week, and get her pregnant. Listening to him, Hope felt insane. “It’s been six months since you lost the last baby,” he reminded her, and for once he didn’t say it was her fault. It was as though he had cleared his pipes in the kitchen, and now he was his old self again. The good Finn was back with them, tucked into bed with her. But she no longer believed what she was hearing. She didn’t trust it, or him. Not at all.