by Bella Grant
Henrietta had a point, of course. I couldn’t sit in my room every day doing nothing without drawing suspicion. “Okay, I’ll get something. Hey, can we go together? I’m still new to this.”
“Now you’re talking,” she said excitedly. “Maybe we will get you some new clothes, too.”
Henrietta met me at the Dolphin Mall—a place I had never visited. Most of my clothes came from Goodwill or donation boxes. The closest I’d ever come to anything as fine as what Henrietta showed me was the dress I’d worn to meet Raymond. She showed me jewelry I didn’t think I’d ever be able to afford, clothes that were luxurious and soft, and shoes that seemed to have been made for me. I was in a different world, and when I was fully clothed in what the store had to offer, I felt like I had crossed over into another dimension and that the woman in the mirror was a copy of myself. An upgrade!
The card Raymond had given me was limitless, and I realized that doors opened to the wealthy, and smiles illuminated everyone’s faces with our appearance. Most of the store owners knew Henrietta, and by the time we left, they knew me too. The things I bought were too much for my car—my car—so Henrietta accompanied me home. We had a ball as I fitted one gown after another, one pair of shoes here and earrings there, until I was exhausted.
“You should have told me being rich was exhausting,” I wailed dramatically and fell back against the bed.
Henrietta laughed. “It can be a chore sometimes, if you know what I mean.”
“Speaking of which, I’m going to take Mom some money at the shelter. I don’t know how much longer she’ll be there, but Teresa needs medicine.”
“Oh, how is she?” Henrietta asked with concern.
“The same, I guess,” I answered sadly. “But I have all this money at my disposal, right? Might as well make good use of it before he discovers I’m a phony.”
“Oh, stop saying that,” Henrietta cried. “You deserve every bit of this. And if you play your cards right, you won’t ever have to leave this house.”
Raymond wasn’t an idiot. Even getting money to my mom would have to be done stealthily. I had to go to the shelter with a cover, just in case I was spotted, and Henrietta was as good a cover as any.
“I might need you to go with me to see my mom,” I told her without looking at her. I stared at the ceiling until the room felt like it was spinning.
“Sure. Just let me know when. You know I have nothing better to do than shop,” she giggled.
When I glanced across at her, her eyes were roaming the room, and a curious expression clouded her face. “Is this your room?”
I hung my head. “Yeah. He sleeps across the hall in the master suite.”
“Why don’t you sleep in there with him?”
“He made it very clear this was merely business,” I told her. “He suggested it, but I preferred keeping the distance. Whenever he wants to…you know…have sex or whatever…I can go over, or he can come here.” Every time I thought about sex with him, panic stirred inside me. I couldn’t imagine it with a man so determined to be cold or to stay away from me.
“This is all so weird. This isn’t what I thought being married would feel like. We’re strangers under the same roof, and he doesn’t want anything other than to say he is married.”
“Well,” Henrietta crooned as she drew close to me on the bed, “you have to make him see you then, my dear.” She brushed my hair back and toyed with one of my curls. “You are young and you are beautiful. He won’t be able to resist you for long.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “You’re saying I should seduce him?”
She giggled. “A little touch here, a revealing dress there… I’ve seen it work wonders before. Men are weak to that kind of thing.”
I wouldn’t know. I’d never been in a relationship before, nor was I endowed with ‘feminine wiles’ that would likely attract a man to me sexually. I felt ridiculous even thinking about it.
“I don’t know about that. Maybe I should wait until he’s ready,” I suggested.
She shrugged. “Your call. Anyway, I should go,” she said and stood. We hugged and she kissed my cheeks. “I’ll see you soon, and remember, you have to play out the game.”
“Yeah, I know, I know,” I drawled. “Now go before you drive me crazy.”
After she had gone, I set up the easel—which I wouldn’t really use—and lay my sketch pads neatly on a stand next to it. I loved to draw, so I flipped one of the pads open. I took the charcoal and stared at the blank page for a while before my hands started to move. I remembered a dress on one of the mannequins I had seen a short while ago and an adjustment I had thought of at the time. My hand moved, and in a short while, the image of a woman appeared wearing an A-line dress with a crop top that revealed her cleavage. I was working my way down the page, altering the design at the tail end of the dress, when I sensed someone.
I looked around and was startled when I saw him watching me. I forgot the detail I was about to add as my hands became paralyzed. “You shouldn’t do that. You might give me a heart attack one day,” I said faintly. I didn’t look at him but at the image on the pad.
He walked closer, so close I could smell the cologne he wore. It coursed with masculinity, and I dared to look at him, at the way he moved with purpose, and imagined the ripples that formed on his stomach with each step. He reached me, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. My head felt dizzy and I closed my eyes as I tried to regain control. There was no question he was attractive and very sensual. I would have allowed him if he wanted to have sex with me right then. But he didn’t ask, and I was slightly disappointed.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you, but I noticed you through the open door. That is nice,” he said as he pointed to the pad. Then he looked around the room. “You know, you don’t have to keep your work in the bedroom,” he said and smiled. One of the few I’d seen.
“I know,” I lied. I had every intention of confining myself to my room. “I just got back and got caught up in the moment.”
“Okay,” he said, and walked away again, as he always did, when we happened to say more than ten words.
“Raymond?” I called after him, and he paused but didn’t look back. “What happened to you?”
He had a look of uncertainty when he turned. “What do you mean?”
“Would it be so bad if we got close?”
His lips thinned, and his face twitched. “It’s better this way.”
“Better for who?” I pressed.
“I’ll see you at dinner,” he said stoically and left.
I couldn’t figure him out, and each time I tried to, he shut down. We rarely had dinner together, so I could only hope the invitation was a slight opening of his personal space. Still, I didn’t look forward to it; dinner only meant more anxiety for me. Plus, all my dining skills would be on display. My palms were already clammy from thinking about it.
I didn’t do much drawing after that. I put away the clothes and other things I’d bought, and while I did that, I remembered Henrietta’s advice. I set aside an off-white chiffon romper with ruffles at the neck that would show off my neckline and a matching pair of gold and white sandals. By the time I was done it was already dark and time to appear before Raymond’s scrutinizing eyes.
I walked into the dining hall just after him, and I saw his jaw drop. He collected himself hastily and smoothed the front of his shirt. He indicated the seat next to him, which he promptly pulled out and offered to me.
I was barely breathing, and sitting next to him was too distracting. I felt numb and mute, and I couldn’t wait for it to be over so I could escape to my room again. It was the most laborious dinner I’ve ever had, and though the dishes smelled extraordinarily palatable, I didn’t taste a thing. My mind was utterly consumed with the handsome stranger next to me—my husband.
He ate, and not a single word was uttered. My mouth went around and around, chewing until the food turned to paste in my mouth. Absent-mindedly, I reached for the salt at the s
ame time he did, and our hands touched. We froze, and I felt something like electricity rush up my hand and swell all over my body. I pulled back quickly and so did he, neither of us wanting the salt any longer.
I glanced at him and saw his clenched jaws and purposeful stare as his gaze focused on the plate. Despite his cold demeanor, I was drawn to him, more than I thought I would be. I wanted him to see me, and I wanted him to want me. It was unbearable knowing he was mine yet he wasn’t. The whole paradox wasn’t lost on me. I was a victim, acutely aware of my newfound existence that was supposed to have been my escape, and that of my family’s, but was slowly becoming more like a prison sentence.
I felt the tears sting my eyes, and I excused myself quickly and hurried from the table. He may not have even noticed I was gone. I didn’t look back, but when I was in my room, I heard him come upstairs. His footsteps stopped outside my door. I waited for him to come in, but he went to his room. The door closing dampened my spirits, and I couldn’t hold back the tears.
Why I thought it would be any different after the contract was signed, I had no idea. He had made it clear he didn’t want anything to do with me outside of my baby-making capabilities and my face in public. Other than that, I’d be free to do as I pleased. But him saying that and my living with it had proven to be two completely different things. It was harder to accomplish each day, and I resolved that I would stay away from him as much as possible. Maybe the feelings he stirred in me would fade, and he would be no more to me than the stranger he insisted on being.
Raymond
This was harder than I thought it would be. Love was not as elusive as I had thought but was more of a foe that chased me relentlessly to my doom. Watching Anna and ignoring the slight tremors she provoked was becoming harder as the days passed. Two weeks had slipped by since our dinner, and still her image—the angel in the white romper, with her red hair swept back and in stark contrast with her outfit—tormented me. We had touched for a fleeting second, which registered in my mind. I hadn’t seen much of her since, and I could only assume it was a deliberate act, one that I had triggered.
Because the weekend had arrived, I didn’t need to be at the office. Usually, I would be down by the pool, but I consulted with the staff concerning her whereabouts before I made plans. I didn’t want to run into her and make an uncomfortable situation even more so. She wasn’t home, so I decided I’d change into my swim trunks and burn some calories rather than my brain cells.
I had only gone through the hall and hit the first landing when I ran into her. My heart stopped. Her back was turned, as usual, and she had the feather duster in her hands, making light strokes against the ornate vase in the corner.
“Anna, you don’t have to do that,” I said without warning.
Once again, I frightened her. She jumped, and her elbow caught the vase, which toppled. I moved closer to her as she tried to balance the duster and the vase at the same moment. She lost her hold on the vase as it rocked and threatened to fall. She let go of the duster, but in her scramble, she lost her footing as well and tumbled. The vase, coincidentally, rocked back into place at the same time she fell into me, pushing me back with force. We both fell, and my arms automatically wrapped around her. When the earth stopped moving, she was lying on top of me, and the body I had not yet felt pressed against mine.
I gazed into her frightened eyes, both of us too shaken to move. But in that moment, and against my better judgement, I couldn’t deny what I felt. I leaned in and caught her lips. She was still for a few seconds and then her lips folded over mine. I felt a hunger like none other, and I wanted to drink her in like some new wine that had hit the market. My hands tightened around her middle, and I forgot we were lying on the ground in plain view.
I emitted a quiet growl, a result of my pent-up passion, as I pulled her even closer. Our lips began a dance, a graceful waltz, and I got lost in her appeal. My head was hot with desire, and my cock began to twitch. My eyes shot open as I came to my senses. I pulled back, gripped her shoulders, and eased her gently from me. I stood and helped her up before I cleared my throat, apologized, and attempted to flee. My foe had caught up to me and had my head in her noose. I had to break free before she choked me.
“Raymond,” she cried as she chased after me and grabbed my arm. “Why do you keep doing that?”
I clenched my jaw as I fought to gain some semblance of control. “It was not a part of the contract,” I told her when I could think of nothing else to say.
“We are married, you know,” she said, and her hold on me softened. “It’s perfectly okay if we kiss.”
I patted her arm and smiled at her. “Perhaps. But it really is better this way, for you and for me.”
“And how will we have babies if you won’t even kiss me?” she wanted to know.
“There are several ways to do that without kissing,” I replied and stepped away again.
I looked at her and saw the disappointment in her eyes before I turned and rushed to my room. It was a familiar sight, like the one I had seen on my mother’s face when my father left. They had a powerful kind of love in the beginning. Or so I was told. But when I could make sense of it, there was only fighting. Constant fighting. Words were hurled, promises were broken, and hearts were betrayed. My father had a lot of money, and he preferred to leave it all to be rid of her. I didn’t want to experience anything of the sort. But when I looked into Anna’s eyes, I saw I was the one inflicting pain on her. I was so adamant that I wouldn’t be hurt I couldn’t see that my actions were causing someone else pain.
It bothered me, so much so I lost my appetite for swimming. I couldn’t stay in the house. I didn’t want to risk running into her again, so I left and ordered my driver to take me to the country club—maybe seeing more platonic faces would dispel the image slowly being tattooed onto my brain, that of her pain-drenched stare. I leaned against the headrest of the seat and closed my eyes, but as soon as I did, my hip vibrated.
I all but shouted as I yanked the device from the holster. I casually slipped it back into place when I saw my mother’s name on the screen. I didn’t need another woman in my head today. But she wouldn’t stop calling.
“What?” I barked into the device when it threatened to drive me crazy.
“Don’t be fresh with me!” she scolded, and I could envision her haggard face on the other end.
I wiped my hand down my face and tried to drown out the sound by rolling down the windows and focusing on the sounds of the waves crashing along the shoreline to my left. She was yammering on about what a disappointment I was, but I already had that record sealed into my mental archives, filed neatly in the cabinet drawer under the heading Lost Cause.
“Did you hear me?” she screeched.
“What?”
She scoffed. “You didn’t hear a word I said.”
“Mom, I’m tired. Can we do this another time?” I felt drained, and she was interrupting my escape.
She was silent for a few seconds, and I was tempted to celebrate her disappearance when she spoke again. “Fine! But remember, I’m still your mother, and I will come by to see that wife of yours. She better be able to make babies, or marrying her will have been a waste of time.”
I moved the phone away and stared at the screen as if at her. I scrunched my face up and brought the phone slowly back to my right temple. Even now, after I was married, she was determined to make me miserable. She didn’t even hope for the best, or even some semblance of civility between Anna and me. It dawned on me then that she was incapable of loving, and of being loved. Because I still didn’t know how to love my mother.
“You don’t need to come. We won’t be there,” I lied. I knew she wouldn’t chance flying half way across the world on the off chance that I might be there. I needed to tell the staff I wouldn’t be available, just in case she decided to phone the house.
“You must get back at one point or another,” she said breathily. And then she was gone.
For most pe
ople, those words could have been mistaken for affection over missing someone, or impatience for a dear one’s arrival. From her lips, it sounded and was received as a threat. I despised our frequent arguments, but she was determined to maintain the distance between us. I had grown to appreciate it, knowing what being in her presence would bring. The woman was insufferable and weighed on my every nerve, pinching at them like a crab.
She made Anna look like a perfect seraph—a woman as holy and angelic as the ones in biblical times. Her dark brown eyes penetrated me, and her curves shouted at me from the thin veil of clothing she wore around the house. As I stared out over the body of water, rolling over itself and crashing repeatedly into the shore, I thought about her. She was beautiful, which had attracted me to her in the first place. But other than that, she was exactly what I had asked her to be. She was the wife who obeyed me and was mostly quiet. I didn’t see her except when I ran into her, and usually, her back was turned to me. I was getting exactly what I had wanted, but now the emotional distance between us was noticeable, and she had somehow gotten to me. We’d kissed, and it wasn’t the most unpleasant feeling. In fact, it had been damn good, and my heart sped up at the thought of her lips moving over mine.
My drive didn’t take me anywhere in particular. I circled the car, and then I asked Joshua to take me home again. When I got back, night had fallen. I didn’t expect to see Anna, which was just as well. I wasn’t prepared for any of the questions she might have.
As I walked to my room, I noticed that her door was ajar. I stood in the hallway for a moment, and as I did, my heart thumped. I looked around, feeling like an intruder, and wiped the blotches of sweat that had begun to appear on my forehead. I moved closer to the door, my heart racing and pummeling against my chest. Everything stilled when I saw her curled up under the sheets. She was sleeping, and even in her sleep, she entranced me. My feet made steps against my mental will, and I was drawn to her side. Her breathing was light, and I watched the rise and fall of her breasts with each breath.