Corben's Thirst: The Thirst Within Part 1.5 by Johi Jenkins Read Free Book Online Page B

wailed at her husband. “I love him , I always have!”
    “What! No—Thierry—it is not like that,” I said, panicking. I turned to her. “Madam, you do not feel that way. I certainly do not feel that way towards you . Please show some respect toward your husband!”
    “Respect!” She whirled on me and tried to slap me, but I had backed away instinctively when she faced me, and she missed. “When did you show respect? Tell him how you slept with me. Tell him how we screwed , time and again, while you were a guest at his house!”
    I flinched, and immediately looked up at Thierry, stupidly hoping that he hadn’t heard, or hadn’t understood her, but as I regarded him the color drained from his face.
    “You what?” he asked, barely moving his lips.
    “No—it was not—it was—a long time ago,” I stammered, trying to deny it, but knowing it was hopeless. “ Years ago. Thierry—”
    The look in my brother’s eyes broke my heart. He was livid, but it was anger that stemmed from the immense pain he radiated.
    “I am sorry, Thierry,” I kept trying to apologize, to explain. All in vain. “It was a mistake—”
    But he turned around without a word and left the room, not waiting for me to finish. I quickly followed after him continuing to utter some nonsense apologies. The sitting room outside the bathroom was empty, and I wanted to talk to him before he returned to the party. I reached him and put a hand on his shoulder.
    He didn’t say a thing but he stopped abruptly, turned around and punched me in the face. He threw me to the ground and repeatedly assaulted me, my face, my chest, my ribs. I only curled up into a ball and brought my arms over my face, not saying another word. Over the loud ringing in my body and the thumps of his blows I could hear Madeleine sobbing in the background.
    “You are dead to me,” he finally said as he stood up, his voice cold as ice. Then he walked away.
    Madeleine stopped for a moment and regarded me on the floor, then ran after him.
    I couldn’t move for a long time, from the pain and indignity. But eventually the thought of someone finding me stirred me. I refused to face my family beaten up like I was, so I left the Great House without a word and walked in shame to my cottage. During the ten-minute walk I tried to envision what would happen next. I came up with different scenarios, all of which ended in doom and humiliation. But I convinced myself that I had to finally tell my wife about my disgraceful past.
    Charlotte met me just outside in the garden and gently threw her arms around me without a word. Her arms were forgiving, nurturing, and so full of love that it broke my heart. My body shook against hers. She hugged me tightly and tried to calm me.
    “Shh,” she said, in a soothing tone. “Do not be distraught. I have you.”
    “But I must tell you,” I said. “You have the right to know.”
    “Tell me,” she said.
    We went inside and locked ourselves in our bedroom. My voice broke as I told her. The shame finally shattered me—it wasn’t just that my brother had found out; it was the indignity of explaining to my beloved wife that I had had an affair with my sister-in-law. It killed me to confess the transgression, even as I explained that after that September two years before I had never sought her again, that I had tried to put the past behind me.
    “I assumed she had tried to move on, as well,” I concluded miserably. “But I did not foresee that the want of happiness in their marriage would prevent her from doing so. I cannot even ask for your forgiveness.”
    To my utmost surprise, I felt a soft pair of lips on my forehead. Strong arms enveloped me. “You have not injured me or yourself in my eyes. The greater blame must fall on her , because she was the one who sought you out while being married to your brother.”
    “But surely you must admit, you cannot deny, that I also carry a large portion of the blame. I let her in.”
    “Very little. She