Prologue

5 years ago

Iridescence

@Iridescence1

A Twisted Fate

Prologue

Dutta

I head into my room, fully intending to collapse face-first into bed, when the sharp sound of something shattering slices through the silence. I glance toward the door that leads to my private balcony, grimacing as I brace myself for what I know I’ll have to face.

After a long day of cleaning up other people’s messes, I’m in no mood to deal with more at home. But, of course, I don’t have much choice.

Hell, what a mess.

Resigned, I step onto the balcony and lean warily against the rail. My eyes drop to the garden below, and there it is—a shattered pot, dirt scattered everywhere, and a plant that’s beyond saving.

I scan the area and my stomach churns when I spot her—fuming in the back garden. The same woman who’s made it her personal mission to avoid me since our marriage.

She’s gone so far as to move into the pool house out back, a place that was never meant for anyone to live.

I guess it’s a blessing I renovated the tiny space a few years ago, adding a small kitchenette and a proper bathroom and bedroom. I did it for convenience—seeing as the pool is far from the main house—but at least now it’s somewhat livable.

Kind of.

She tilts her head back and glares at the night sky, probably cursing the mess that is her life, likely cursing me in the process. I wince, fully aware I’m the lead player in her nightmare.

My muscles tense when she slumps forward, a defeated look washing over her as though the weight of her world is too much to bear.

A strange, unfamiliar pang of regret stirs inside me, but I push it down. I’m sure she blames me for her situation—rightly so—but it’s too late for second thoughts now.

I cross my arms, staring down at her, wondering how I’m going to get her to listen. There’s so much to discuss, but she’s been dodging me all week. This is the first time I’ve seen her since our marriage. She probably doesn’t even realize I’m home yet.

I glance away, cursing myself. What the hell was I thinking going through with this?

I, of all people—someone who’s avoided relationships his whole life. Someone who vowed never to marry. And yet here I am, a married man.

I look back at her, and our eyes meet. My jaw tightens as she spins on her heel and runs at the sight of me.

How the hell am I supposed to talk about our marriage when my wife won’t even give me the time of day?