He walked out of the room and my mind raced with my options. I couldn’t call Elliot because he would come running and probably get hurt, and I couldn’t call 999 because I couldn’t speak to answer any of the questions they’d have. I had to think of what I needed at the current moment, and what I needed was Anderson verbally saying what he’d done on the night I left him. I needed proof. I hurriedly got out my phone and triple-checked that it was on silent. I turned the volume up so the microphone would pick up the words more clearly, then I opened the voice memo app, pressed Record and put the phone back in my pocket.
When Anderson returned, I groaned when I reached behind me and rubbed the throbbing spot on the back of my head. It really was hurting me, but I was trying to appear to be as little of a threat as I could – so I wanted to appear as weak as possible.
“I can’t believe you’ve attacked me, Anderson.”
He retook his seat.
“I didn’t want to hurt you, it’s why I gave you some morphine. Don’t you understand?”
I sat upright. “You could have killed me . . . you know I’m recovering from a brain injury!”
“That is the very reason I put morphine in your tea, so you’d just fall asleep.”
“Wait.” I felt my lips part as I realised just what he was saying. “You drugged me?”
I recalled him mentioning it when I woke up as well, but I hadn’t focused on it until now.
“Yes, but not very well. You’re still conscious. You said morphine makes you sleep.”
“Yeah,” I replied dumbly. “It does.”
“I should’ve used two capsules instead of one.” He shook his head.
I stared at him. “You drugged me and you hit me!”
“I didn’t want to hit you; I never want to hit you.”
“But yet you always do hit me.” I glared at him. “You’re the reason why waking up in a hospital felt familiar to me when I awoke from my coma . . . each time I woke up in a hospital, it was because you put me there.”
“Me?” Anderson jumped to his feet. “I had no choice but to discipline you! You never listen to me, when all I want to do is protect you!”
I clenched my hands into fists to keep myself from screaming at him.
“Protect me?” I repeated with a slow blink. “You protect me by physically damaging my body? Is that it? You almost killed me, and you did succeed in killing Bailey. Anderson . . . you killed her.”
My voice cracked as the weight of my words took hold. Anderson had caused Bailey’s death; he was the reason we were so scared that night. He’d caused every single thing.
“I didn’t mean to cause the crash, but she took you from me!” His hands shook as he spoke. “I just wanted to get to you, I didn’t think she’d drive so fast to get away from me.”
I lifted my hands to my face.
“She was only twenty-one,” I said. “She had her whole life ahead of her!”
Anderson didn’t reply but I didn’t expect him to. He was deflecting the blame of the situation on to me and Bailey, and he wasn’t going to take accountability for what he’d done because he didn’t care. I wasn’t sure he felt real emotions, not like a normal person did. All he cared about was having me under his spell.
“Why do you want me?” I asked, dropping my hands. “What the hell could you possibly want me for?”
“Because you’re my best friend and my wife. I love you, Noah. I’ve always protected you from Elliot, from your parents, from everyone who has ever hurt you.”
“Anderson, you were the one who hurt me!”
“To protect you.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “If you went back to him, to your parents, you would have killed yourself. They caused your depression. You’re still alive because I protected you. I helped you. You see that, right?”
I didn’t see what he wanted me to see; I saw what he was trying to do. He was trying to manipulate me by making me feel sorry for him, to sympathise with him and accept that he hurt me to protect me. I may have believed that once upon a time, but not any more.
“I can’t remember being your wife, so why do you still want me?” I pressed. “Why?”
“Because you’re mine,” he growled, lowering himself back down on to the chair. “I’ll never let you go.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. I needed to keep him talking. His mood swings were startling. One second he was trying to be gentle, and the next he was firm and had anger blazing in his eyes.
“If I’m yours, why didn’t you try harder to see me at the hospital? Why did you only come to me twice?” I quizzed. “Why wait until I came to you?”
“Because your parents and that piece-of-shit ex of yours got to you first,” he replied, his voice so low it sent a shiver of fear up the length of my spine. “They never liked me. None of them did. At the start, I was extra nice to them. I wanted them to like me because it makes things easier when people like you . . . but none of them ever did. It’s why I stopped you from having any involvement with them.”
I lifted my hand to my mouth. “You stopped me from seeing them because they didn’t like you?”
“Because they would have had influence over you,” he corrected as I dropped my hand. “We would have never been able to be together the way we wanted if everyone from your life was sticking their noses into our relationship. You didn’t need them . . . don’t you see, baby? You only ever needed me. I take care of you, I protect you. Me, not them – and not him.”
He words
