The Trophy Wife by Evie Baxter

Thirteen

The fear on her face was real. She hadn’t flinched. She had cowered in the face of my perceived anger. And my stomach lurched at the sight of it. Someone had done this to her. And it didn’t take a fool to figure out that the culprit was Robert Alder. No wonder she had been so fucking vengeful.

I sat down, slowly, so she could monitor my movement, witness that I was calm and not a threat. My heart raced at the implications of what that bastard must have done to her.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I’m not angry, just frustrated. You don’t realise the impact you had on me, Vic – ,” I corrected myself. “Tori. I would really like to see you again. I can come to you. You don’t have to come into London.”

Her eyes welled with tears as she visibly tried to relax her body, but it was an uphill battle. Her arms were lowered, and she was sat upright, but her body was as rigid as a steel pole.

“No, I’m sorry,” her voice was so quiet I could barely make out her words. “I have problems discerning when men are a threat and when they aren’t. I’m not good with anger.”

I wanted to take her hand, reassure her, but I knew that was absolutely the last thing I should do right then. Touch her? After what I had just witnessed, I would be handling her with kid gloves for the foreseeable future.

“He did this, didn’t he? Robert.” She nodded mutely.

I wanted to ask why she had married him. Why she had stayed for three and a half years. I wanted details, and I wanted to track him down and beat him to a pulp. Men who hurt women. Just no. Everything in me rebelled at the idea. But for a husband to hit his wife, the woman he had vowed to love and protect above all others? The world was a fucked up place because I knew Robert was not the only man to perpetuate these crimes on women. But he was the man who had abused the woman I was drawn to.

“Drink your tea, Tori,” I urged her. Trying to distract her from the adrenalin rush the shot of fear would have given her. Her hand was still trembling slightly when she went to pick her mug up, so she used both hands to hold it steady as she took a sip, doing as I asked.

“Okay, you don’t have to tell me anything. I get that. I’m not asking for that. What I’m asking is a chance to be a part of your life. Let me in a little.” I studied her face as I lay out my wishes at her feet, knowing she would refuse. She was shaking her head before I even finished speaking.

“Don’t waste your time on me,” she told me. “I’m quite obviously still a mess five years on from leaving that man. Look at me. I’ve not been on a date since I left him. You? That night? That’s the only time I’ve ever done that. I’ll just disappoint you because I can’t do it, Bastian. I can’t let anyone in. I can’t let a man in my life and have him around Isla. It terrifies me.”

I took a big sip of my tea, stalling for time while I tried to think of a way to get her to crack her door open just a little. I couldn’t imagine driving away from here today knowing I would never see her again. “No dates then. Nothing in the evenings. Let me come back. Next weekend, and we can do something with Isla. Where other people are around so you feel safer. I could meet you there so that you wouldn’t have to share a car with me.”

“Like a picnic or something? I’m not sure. And Isla being there?” she asked as she pondered my request, her head shaking in refusal even as she made the suggestion.

“Isla being there would be perfect.” I’d take any time with her that I could get. “I promise, we can be completely out in the open the whole time. There won’t be any date pressure on you if I’m trying to charm a four year old. I’ll bring the picnic too. No work for you to do. Just tell me what kinds of foods Isla likes and I’ll take care of it.”

“Do you understand what you’re getting into, hanging out with a four and a half year old?” There was the faintest glimpse of a smirk on her face despite the tension that still resided there, a good sign in my book.

“How bad can it be?” I was an only child so had no nieces or nephews to hang about with. My friends were for the large part single, or married but yet to have children, immersed in big city life. But Isla seemed pretty cool to me.

I wasn’t sure how I could be wrong, but Tori looked at me with wide eyes and then burst out laughing.

Oh.