“What’s this?” asks Chase, taking out a silver stick fixed to a small piece of wood.
“It’s a trophy,” I say, taking it from him and admiring it. “When I was sixteen, I won a singing competition. The judges said I had the most beautiful voice they’d ever heard. They said they couldn’t wait to see what would happen to me.”
Chase wraps his arm around my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“Sorry for what?”
“Giving up one’s dream is never easy.”
I pull away from him. “I’m not giving up my dream.”
He stares down at me. “Melody, you have no time for a career. You’re a wife, soon you’re going to be a mother. That is your place, by my side raising our child.”
“I never agreed to that!”
“What is there to agree to? It’s how things are,” he says with a matter of fact tone. “This is how I’ve always felt. You know that.”
“How could I possibly know that? You never said anything. We’re married, for God’s sake - you didn’t think to tell me before we got married?”
He’s silent.
“You hid it from me deliberately, didn’t you?” I say.
“I thought it was obvious.”
“No, I won’t. I refuse to. Singing, it’s everything I’ve always wanted. Everything I’ve dreamed-“
“Is it really?” he says stiffly. “You never did anything about it.”
“What are you talking about? I moved to New York, and Richard, he-“
“Gave you plenty of opportunities, but you ran away every time.”
There’s a lump in my throat. “That’s cold.”
“That’s how it is. In your own words.”
Maybe Chase was right. It had been my dream for so long, maybe it had blinded me to my true priorities. Maybe I never really wanted it all along, otherwise why would I have ruined so many opportunities being paralysed by fear?
There’s a deep silence between us.
Chase approaches me and goes to put his arms around me. I knock them away. “Don’t.”
He ignores me, and pulls me closer, and I resist for a moment but his touch is so soothing and protective that I melt into his arms. Before I know it, he’s holding me tight and caressing my hair.
“I promised to give you everything you ever wanted,” he says. “I thought money would be enough. But I guess some things cannot be bought.” He kisses the top of my head but I can feel his jaw set still as stone. “When we’re settled back in New York, and once the baby has come... if you still want to pursue this singing career of yours, I won’t stop you.”
“How magnanimous of you.”
“All I want is for you to be happy. If there’s anything within my power, it will be done.”
I want to snap back with another snarky comment, but it occurs to me that this is completely new for Chase as well. He’s never had a wife before - he’s never had someone carrying his child. He comes across as brash and offensive, but he means well. He just wants to protect me, and that tenderness and care is more important than any silly dream. Maybe I’m being purely selfish here - I have a rich handsome powerful husband, a baby on the way, and a life others would kill for, yet I long for the same idealised vision of my future I’ve wanted since I was a child. To give that up feels so impossible. I don’t want to let go of those hopes and dreams, and I hate myself for it. I want more.
My life is seemingly perfect. But that’s not perfect enough.
What’s wrong with me?
And so much of this life is hanging by a thread. If I were to lose Chase, I’d lose everything.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have lied to you.”
“That’s okay.”
“It’s not. I abhor liars. They’re nothing worse than backstabbers and betrayers. Yet here I am, nothing more than a Judas when I kept my thoughts to myself before we married.”
“Really, Chase, it’s okay.”
“You deserve better than that. It won’t happen again. I promise, from now on, there will be no secrets between us.”
“Of course,” I say with a deep pang of guilt. “No more secrets.”
CHAPTER TEN
Melody
The sunlight beams against my skin and I stretch out instinctively against the hot rays. My eyes are closed, but I can hear the distant sounds of ships passing in the sea beyond the villa.
I’ve never felt like this before: no care and no trouble in the world. It’s as if life has paused and all the pieces fit into a perfect jigsaw. A perfect calm of everything in its right place.
This is my life now. More than that: this is who I am. This is who I am meant to be. Not the silly little girl from Iowa, too scared to put a foot wrong in case someone - anyone - thought to question it and make me look stupid. No - now I’m Mrs. Melody Strong, wife to a handsome billionaire, carrying his child, and lying back and enjoying the sun in my husband’s Tuscan villa.
Husband.
It doesn’t matter how many times I repeat it to myself, I still find it so hard to believe, expecting a splash of cold water to the face to wake me up and back to my real life. But it never happens. Instead, I remember again and again that this is reality, and my heart skips a beat.
Even after seven bliss filled days in Chase’s villa, deep in the heart of Italy, the word husband feels new.
I love to think it, to roll it around over my tongue, in my mouth and in my mind. I love to hold it close to me, to wrap my arms around it like my child and never let it go. It’s a truth that’s there and will always be there and I feel like I’ll forget it and take it for granted but that moment never comes.
I open my eyes and take a sip from the fresh orange juice resting on the table next to me.
The soft light of the sun bounces off the pool and a sudden sense of loneliness takes me.
It’s been no one but me and Chase for the last week, isolated together in this villa, with nothing but each other and our bodies for company.
Chase wanted to bring in staff to help tend to us in the daylight hours, before leaving us to ravish each other in the night. But I told him no - all I needed was him. In truth, I was a little scared of being waited on hand and foot - even back in Iowa, my father employed a monstrous amount of people to tend to his every need, but I always stepped back and took no help. I’ve always wanted to do everything myself as long as I can remember.
Chase was not sure at first, but after I told him how no staff would allow us to make love whenever we wanted without worry of who would walk in, he was convinced. But from the hunger in his eyes from the past week every time he’s locked eyes on me, I imagine he wouldn’t care about fucking me with a hundred people watching.
The thought stirs a hunger within me, and I leap off my towel and rush inside, towards the master bedroom as fast as I can. Priceless works of art hang from every wall, sculptures of abstract objects stand on plinths in the corner of every room, between the minimalist furniture. It all feels so wasted on me - hard expensive chairs that sear into the back; artwork that looks like it was done by a dog with a brush and very well could have been and that’s the point of it. But Chase loves them, so I must learn to. This is my world now.
I reach the stairs and catch my reflection in the wall-mounted mirror. A tiny bikini hangs around my body, one of the countless amount Chase bought for me in Florence. The strings tie tightly around my frame and for a moment I feel ghastly looking at my plump figure, my mind invaded by the paranoid thoughts of how anyone could possibly want this. But then I remember they do. I’ve always worn such baggy and ill-fitting clothes to hide my shame, but Chase loves my body so much, maybe I’m the neurotic one here. There must be nothing wrong with my body if he can want it. My breasts are so large, my wide hips bearing underneath the curve of my belly that nurtures the child growing inside of me.
For the first time, I actually feel comfortable in my own skin. I’m actually worthy of being wanted.
; The golden necklace around my neck glistens in the setting evening sun, and I’m filled with a sense of foreboding ambivalence.
Chase bought this necklace for me. Hell, Chase has bought everything for me: the clothes, the jewellery, my hair and nails. But I didn’t ask him - I didn’t even get to admire these gifts before he sprang them on me.
I smile and I’m grateful every time, but I can’t escape the feeling that he’s dressing me like a doll; like he’s trying to turn me into the perfect wife - the type of woman who should be seen to be on his arm. The type of woman no one would judge him for marrying.
Maybe it’s not such a surprise - he always said I would never be able to cope in his world. Maybe a disguise is the best I can hope for.
But then who am I really? Am I Melody Strong: wife of a handsome CEO billionaire playboy? Or am I still that mousey little girl, playing dress up with the adults?
The five-carat diamond ring on my finger shines and, for a moment, extinguishes my reflection.
No. Chase wants me. I know he does. The way his eyes devour me every time he sets them on me, and the way we set the night alive in an impossible display of heat and passion...
I must find him.
I race up to the master bedroom, but it’s empty. As is the upstairs dining room, the library and the kitchen.
It takes me a few minutes to wander around the luxurious villa, but when I pass by the study, I hear Chase’s voice shouting into the phone. He’d been using the room as a makeshift office, frequently having meetings with high-level board members well into the evening, whenever I was not by his side.
I open the door and peek inside.
“How the fuck did that happen?” he says, completely oblivious to my presence. “No, I want answers, not god damn excuses. And I want them when I return. Goodbye.”
He slams the phone down and leans back in his leather chair.
“Is everything alright?” I ask.
He doesn’t look at me, instead just waving his hand dismissively. “Everything’s fine.”
It bothers me how impossible he finds it to let go of work. He takes everything so seriously, but we’re married now - he needs to learn to relax.
But it must be hard wired, like how he refuses to get into a situation where he may look vulnerable or foolish, even if only for a second. Only yesterday, he took me on a night on the town, lavishing me with expensive meals for luxurious restaurants, buying me more clothes and more jewellery than I can count, before we took a romantic walk through the winding stone cobbled streets.
I was so giddy with happiness, that my mind got away from me. The evening was so perfect and we were so happy, that when we wandered past a karaoke bar near the centre of town, I eagerly tried to pull him inside.
“Come on, Chase. Please.”
“No, I told you. I don’t sing,” he said, shaking his head.
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
His look became suddenly hard. “Damn it, Melody. I said no.”
And that was the end of that.
No ifs, no buts, just no.
But this needs to change. He has to learn to let himself go. He’s given me so much and tried to change me and make me into the woman I always wanted to be - now it’s my turn to return the favour.
I wander over to his desk and seductively trace my fingers up my stomach to my buxom breasts, almost spilling out of my bikini top. “Chase...” I say sensually.
“What is it?” he says, but his look of distraction suddenly changes to one of hunger, as he glances up and his eyes find my body.
His gaze lingers on my breasts and I take a long deep breath, pushing my bosoms out.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I say. “If there’s anything I can do...”
“Anything?”
He smirks and I feel his burning gaze as I tilt my head back and let my hair topple down my back.
I give him a soft sensual sigh and he looks like he’s finding it impossible to draw breath.
“Come here,” he says, and I wander over.
I lean down to meet his face and kiss him passionately. His sun warmed lips burn against my own and I melt inside. My eyes close and his musky scent billows into my nostrils.
Our lips together, our tongues exploring each other’s mouths, I feel intoxicated with ecstasy.
I break the kiss and his lips linger, open and an inch from my own.
In the moment of silence, I sensually drop to my knees in front of him, my head resting between his muscular thighs.
“What are you doing?” he says.
I playfully caress his skin through his pants with the lightest touch of my fingertips. “You need to learn how to relax.”
My fingers unzip his pants, peeling his underpants down his hips, and I take his length into my mouth.
His hands grip my head as his breath becomes thick and fast, and I continue to pleasure him. He leans back, and my hands descend beneath his shirt and massage his muscular chest.
After a few minutes, I can feel his pleasure growing and growing, every thought in his mind erased and every point in time non-existent except the one in which we now live.
He pulls my mouth off him and lifts my chin with his finger so I’m staring him in the eyes.
“Let’s finish this upstairs,” he says.
A wide grin fills my face.
He takes my hand and escorts me up, leading me towards the door.
As I go to open it, he scoops me up into his arms and carries me up the stairs to the master bedroom.
The villa is nothing but cool and quiet, empty of everything but Chase and myself. All I can feel is the hard muscles of his torso pressing through his white T-shirt, so tight it’s stuck to his powerful frame like body paint.
With each step, my pebbled nipples break through the fabric of my bikini top and rub into his shoulder blades, and the rush and thrill and need to be devoured fills me.
I burn for him.
The smell of his thick musk pervades the air, and mixes with the scent of chlorine escaping from my skin.
He throws open the bedroom door with a kick and drops me on the enormous bed. I stretch out on the soft white duvet, and beckon him towards me.
Chase looks at me, hunger in his face, his lips slightly parted.
I untie my bikini and drop it at his feet.
Beyond the open doors to the verandah, seagulls cry and ships honk in the distance, but all I can focus on is the hoarse intake of breath from Chase as he bores into me with those dark piercing eyes.
The wind blows in from the sea causing the curtains to flutter behind him, like a Greek God controlling all the elements of the world, ready to take a fair maiden from below and make her his own.
“My wife,” he says.
The words are like beautiful music to my ears.
“My husband.”
His glaze fixed on my own, he peels off his t-shirt, finally exposing his muscular tanned pecs, his washboard abs and broad stone carved shoulders.
I watch him, my fingers gripping the duvet of our marriage bed, the touch sensation filling my mind’s eyes with the endless pleasure and ecstasy we’ve already given to each other on this bed. And I know in my heart of hearts that this is only the beginning.
He pulls off his jeans and then strips off his silk underpants, dropping them to the carpet in a crumpled heap.
Completely naked, he climbs onto our bed and crawls over me, taking my head and guiding me to his own. We kiss and it’s so hard and passionate, but somehow tender and protective. He takes me in a gentle embrace and softly bites my top lip.
I tremble, and tilt my head back, presenting my naked skin to him, our hot breath mingling in the space between our perpetually wanting bodies.
An unfathomable ache builds up inside me, rushing through my body and filling me with the most pure emotion I’ve ever known.
His rough stubble rubs against my cheek and I take him inside of me. He’s so slow and tender, making every second last an ete
rnity with every kiss and caress and lick, worshipping my body like I’m the only thing in the world, and he’s the only thing in my own - there’s nothing but the two of us, interlocked and making love and together and complete and without end, every emotion billowing until the cold hard truth screams in my mind:
I love him.
And then he groans and a wave of ecstasy and bliss rushes through me and I explode in pleasure as he explodes in harmony and fills me with his seed.
We lay back and he holds me in his arms, my body shivering from the aftershock of climax.
I expect my mind to be filled with riddles and confusion, but now everything is so much clearer it’s blinding.
I love him.
I can’t deny the truth as much as I wish I could. And it fills me with such regret and anger that I cannot speak those words out loud to him. But I can’t be that brave or reckless - it would destroy everything and I would lose the man I love.
He drifts off to sleep next to me and I sit still in the calm and watch him. A gentle smile is traced across his lips, so content and happy.
I stand up and walk across to the open verandah, the trees swishing and swaying in the peaceful breeze. Light from the setting sun sparkles in the distant depths of the azure waters, and fills me with a sense of calm.
I turn back and look to Chase, and I feel reborn.
The truth is like an epiphany, and I cannot deny it any longer. I don’t want to.
I love him.
In fact, I think I’ve always loved him. Even before we ever met that life-changing day in his office so long ago.
It’s like my body has been in stasis, awaiting somebody to take me and wake me up to the real world, like I’ve always been waiting for him.
But the feeling of happiness soon gives way to one of despair.
I love a man who cannot love me back. He can give me everything except his heart.
Everything feels so hopeless.
But then again, the only reason he cannot love me back is because that is what he believes. Maybe he’s so broken and jaded by life that he’s given up on love, not that he’s not capable of it.
Perfect Harmony Page 14