Mafia Lord's Mute Sweetheart

Chapter 52: Chapter 52 Why do you not react?

Daisy knew that whenever he was angry, he would come to her and take it all out on her. She was his release valve, his punching bag, the person he could yell at without consequence. Because she could not yell back and could not argue.

The footsteps stopped outside her door.

He opened the door without knocking, as usual. The handle turned, the wood swung inward and he stood in the doorway.

Cedric’s blue eyes were dark, clouded with something that might have been anger or pain or exhaustion. His jaw was tight, the muscles jumping beneath his skin. His hair was messy, like he had been running his fingers through it all night, pulling at the strands. His white shirt was wrinkled, untucked from his pants. His tie was gone. His collar was unbuttoned, revealing his chest.

He looked at her.

Daisy looked at him.

Neither of them spoke. She could not. He would not.

"Move," he said.

Daisy blinked. She pointed at herself, then at the bed, then tilted her head in question.

Where do you want me to go?

He did not understand her signs. Her hands meant nothing to him. The sight of them irritated him, reminded him of what she could not do, what she could never be.

"Just move. Go sit somewhere else. I need to lie down."

Daisy stood up. She walked to her wooden chair by the window and sat down. The wood was hard, the cushion thin but she had sat here many times before, in the dark, waiting for him to leave.

Cedric walked past her without looking. He fell onto her bed, face first, his shoes still on, his arms spread wide. The mattress groaned under his weight.

The bed was too small for him. His legs hung off the edge, his feet still in his shoes, the soles dirty. His head was buried in her pillow, and her yellow scarf, which she had placed on her bed earlier, was bunched under his shoulder.

Daisy watched him.

He did not speak. He just lay there, breathing, his chest rising and falling in slow, heavy movements.

She did not know what had happened but she could guess. He had been with Jessica. They had fought. Jessica had said something, or done something and now he was here, in her room, on her bed, because he had nowhere else to go.

Cedric turned his head. His blue eyes found her in the dim light.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Daisy looked away. She stared at the window, at the dark glass, at her own reflection staring back at her.

"Look at me when I talk to you."

She looked at him.

His eyes were bloodshot, the whites threaded with red. His face was pale, almost gray in the dim light. He looked tired, angry and lost.

"You know," he said, his voice low and rough, "none of this would be happening if you had just stayed home. If you had not come to the event."

Daisy said nothing. She could not.

"Jessica is angry. She thinks I want you. She thinks I look at you." He laughed, a cold sound, empty and hollow. "Why would I want you? You cannot even speak."

Daisy’s hands curled into fists in her lap. Her nails pressed into her palms.

"I had to beg her to stay. Beg. Me. Cedric Evermont. Begging a woman to stay with me." He pressed his palm against his forehead, his fingers splayed across his skin. "And it is your fault. All of it. Your fault."

Daisy wanted to sign. She wanted to tell him that she had not asked to go to the event. He had invited her. He had told her to come. He had said spouses were expected to attend. She had only done what he asked.

But she did not. There was no point.

Cedric sat up suddenly, his eyes wild. "Do you know what she said to me? Do you know what she called me?"

Daisy shook her head.

"She said I was weak. She said I let my grandfather control me. She said I was not a real man because I could not even stand up to my own family." His voice rose in anger. "And she is right. She is right."

He stood up from the bed and started pacing, his shoes scuffing against the floor. Back and forth, back and forth like a caged animal.

"I should have divorced you years ago. I should have never married you in the first place. You are nothing to me. Nothing."

Daisy flinched at the word. Nothing.

"But I cannot divorce you. You know that. Grandfather would cut me off. Take the company. Leave me with nothing." He stopped pacing and faced her, his chest heaving. "So I am stuck with you. Stuck with a mute wife who cannot even make conversation. Who cannot laugh at my jokes or argue with me or make me feel alive."

His voice dropped.

"Jessica makes me feel alive. When I am with her, I forget. I forget all of this." He gestured vaguely at the room. "But then I come home, and I see you and I remember."

Daisy sat very still. Her hands were still curled in her lap. Her eyes were fixed on his face.

"Why do you just sit there?" he shouted. "Why do you not react? Why do you not cry? Why do you not scream?"

He took a step toward her.

"Scream, Daisy. Scream at me. Tell me you hate me. Tell me I am a monster. Do something."

Daisy opened her mouth. Nothing came out. Nothing ever came out.

Cedric stared at her. His chest heaved. His hands shook at his sides.

Then his face became ugly. He looked away, toward the window, toward the dark sky.

"Just go to sleep," he said quietly. "I am too tired for this."

He walked back to the bed and fell onto it again, his back to her. He did not take off his shoes. He did not pull the blanket over himself. He just lay there, curled on his side, his breathing slow and heavy.