The End of a Marriage (Colette and Matheo) novel Chapter 303

Chapter 303

She makes me feel like a… He stopped, swallowed hard, and gritted his teeth.

But the word was already there. Ugly. Unshakable.

A rapist.

Dinner was no better. Isla sat as far from him as possible, barely touching her food. Her eyes stayed fixed on her plate. Every time he tried to talk to her, she

either gave him clipped, meaningless answers or pretended she hadn’t heard him.

When their hands accidentally brushed as she passed him the salt, she flinched again. His hand twitched with the urge to throw the glass shaker against the

wall just to break the suffocating tension. But he didn’t. He forced himself to smile instead.

By the time night fell, Graham was done. Done with her fear. Done with the unbearable silence. Done with feeling like the villain in his own marriage.

When he climbed into bed that night, Isla was already there, curled on her side beneath the covers. Her back was to him, as always. The blanket rose and fell

with her breaths–fast, too fast to be sleep.

He lay there for a long time, staring at the ceiling. The distance between them on the bed was no more than half a foot, but it might as well have been a

canyon.

The worst part wasn’t the silence. It wasn’t the distance.

It was knowing that when she’d married him, she’d looked at him like he was her world. And now, after one night, she looked at him like he was her

nightmare.

She’s making me hate myself.

He clenched his fists beneath the sheets.

And God help him, if this was what married life was going to be like–living with a woman who recoiled from his touch when tyd like he d violated her beyond repair–he didn’t know how much more of it he could take.

On the fifth morning, Graham left the house.

He didn’t have a destination in mind–just the overwhelming need to escape the suffocating air that clung to Thunfield Manor like a heavy, wet cloil The awkwardness. The tension. The unbearable silence. He told himself he just needed fresh air. A change of scenery.

But who the hell was he kidding?

He left because he could no longer stand to look at her.

The fragile, broken woman who flinched at his touch. The same woman who had once smiled when he sneaked into her room at mahight, her checks flushed, eyes alight with something that made him want to tear the world apart to get to her Now, she recoiled like lie wat something vile. And he did

understand it.

How could he, when she didn’t understand it herself?

That morning had been the last straw.

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9:33 am P P M

Chapter 303

It had been the same, painful routine: the two of them sitting at opposite ends of the breakfast table like strangers forced to dine together Graham fed reached for the coffee jug at the exact moment Isla did. Their fingers brushed.

That fleeting touch. Her gasp. Her sharp withdrawal, hand yanked back as though he’d burned her.

His jaw had clenched so tightly he felt his teeth groan beneath the pressure. The muscles in his neck strained. His pulse roared in his ears.

He remembered the exact moment the anger struck him–hot, sharp, and vicious.

He’d gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles whitened. Because at that moment, he saw only two options:

Either he was going to slam her against the wall and show her what real pain felt like…

…or he was going to wrap his hands around her delicate throat and snap it in half.

The thought had terrified him.

So he stood, threw his napkin onto the table, and walked out the door without another word.

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