The Marriage Contract

by Tara Ahmed

  The side of her lip had turned lavender, as she placed a hand against it, glaring at me. Grandfather George stood, his grey hair shining against the chandelier lights, as he made his way towards me, his palm gripping over a black cane.

  “You need to leave!” Bethany shouted.

  “Oh, goodness,” Edmund whispered. “I’ll go call an ambulance—“

  “Don’t you dare!” Gweneth yelled. “You know I hate those places. I’m perfectly fine, Edmund. I’m healthier than you. Now listen to your mother, and sit back down! Stop over reacting.”

  Edmund opened his mouth, but then closed it, as though deciding it best not to say anything. He sat in his seat, across from me, sending me a cold stare. I looked away.

  Bethany stood behind Gweneth, placing her manicured hands on her step grandmother’s shoulder, narrowing her eyes at me.

  “Can we call the police or something?” she snapped, her chest heaving. “This was clearly an assault. She just punched Granny!”

  I glanced at Gweneth, who was staring at her plate with a curious glint in her eyes, as though contemplating something. I supposed she was thinking about how to kick me out, and break this marriage, because her grandson had clearly married a psychopath.

  And I didn’t exactly punch her, but it was no time to correct anybody, since I was clearly at fault. I sat in my chair, my legs shaking and my eyes beginning to sting from embarrassment.

  James! Why did he have to squeeze my hand so damn hard? This was his fault, but blaming him would just sound ridiculous, and make the matter worse.

  “Bethany, sweetie, just calm down,” said Rosaline, sitting poised in her seat. “Dorothy, dear…I believe we’re all waiting for an explanation. Did you have some sort of spasm? Should we call the hospital…perhaps you’re sick…mentally?”

  I shook my head.

  Tears threatened to drop, but I held them back. I stood, pushing the chair back, hearing it creak against the smooth, wooden floor, as I turned towards Gweneth, kneeling before her. I should have run away then, screaming an apology to everyone, but that would be unfair to Gweneth, and would also make me a coward.

  Grabbing the embroidered piece of napkin in the table, I reached my hand towards my glass, taking out an ice cube, and wrapping it over the fabric. Gweneth lifted her eyes towards me, but they were unreadable, and I could only imagine what she must have been thinking.

  But without another thought, I pressed the ice pack against the side of her mouth, letting my tears fall. Grandfather George, who had been walking towards me, suddenly stopped. He stood behind me, balancing his tall, round body against the cane, as the room grew silent.

  “My grandparents passed away,” I told Gweneth, pressing the pack gently against her lips. “But when they were alive, they were kind of like you, except less daring. My Grandmother always told me to never hurt another person, and if I did, I should do whatever I can to make it up to them. So, please…punish me however you like. I can take it. I promise.”

  Gweneth’s eyes softened, as her palm curled over mine, removing it from her cheek. She took the ice pack from my hand, placed it on the table, and smiled.

  “I know it was an accident,” she whispered. “In fact, I saw what James was doing under the table—“

  “What?” Bethany shouted. “James, what’s Granny saying?”

  Grandfather George, who was standing behind me, placed his free hand on my shoulder, urging me to stand. I stood, as he turned me around, placing a hand against my cheek, giving me a warm smile. But in the following moment, his gaze darkened, as he turned towards James, smacking him hard against the head.

  This time, Richard laughed.

  “This is gold,” said Richard. “I’m sorry Granny, but you must admit, this was hilarious. We don’t get too many days like this—“

  Gweneth laughed, snorting in the process.

  “You’re right!” she said.

  James stood, walking around the chair, and standing five feet apart from George, who looked ready to murder him.

  “Honestly, this is getting out of hand.” James’s voice clattered through the air, as he stood, his cheeks turning tomato red. “I’m sorry! I held Dorothy’s hand too hard, and she was trying to get out of my hold, and so she jerked it back—“

  “You piece of crap,” George snapped. “You hurt your Grandmother! And you were ready to get your own fiancé in trouble—“

  “I’m sorry!” James repeated. “I just…I have no excuse. I was too shocked to say anything—“

  “Or too much of a coward,” Richard said, laughing. “Honestly. Granddad was about to get her thrown out the house—“

  “She should have been thrown out!” Bethany yelled. “She still hit Granny!”

  I sighed, standing, and walking towards James. I was still part of the act, and I supposed, I had to act like a supportive wife. But it was his fault. He should have defended me when he saw how everyone was misunderstanding the situation. Standing beside James, I took his hand, cursing myself for having to pretend to be this “supportive wife”. I really just wanted to stomp on his foot, hard, and possibly pull out his hair in the process.

  “Please,” I said, tracing my eyes over everyone in the room. “Don’t blame James. It was an accident. I’m so sorry. If you can forgive us—“

  “Look at that!” said George. “Look at what a great wife you have! I would have had her thrown out of the house, and sent to the police if Gweneth didn’t say that it was in fact my no good Grandson’s fault that he almost killed his grandmother—“

  “Oh, dear,” said Gweneth. “George, I’m fine. I fell down on purpose. Her slap was feather light! I’m a tough woman, you know that George. I thought at least you would follow in on this prank!—“

  “WHAT?” Everyone shouted in unison.

  We all gaped at her, and even Richard looked surprised.

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “Mother!” Edmund snapped. “This is madness—“

  “Complete madness!” agreed James. “Explain yourself!”

  “No freaking way,” whispered Bethany.

  “Our house has officially become a circus,” Richard noted quietly.

  “Gweneth!” George shouted.

  Without another word, Edmund strode out of the room in anger. I glanced at Rosaline, wondering if she would follow him, but she merely pursed her lips, looking annoyed. That confused me. Why was she annoyed?

  Gweneth laughed, and stood, doing a jumping jack to show that she’s perfectly fine. She pressed a hand against the side of her mouth, and the purple bruise that I’d seen earlier, smeared against her thumb.

  “Prunes,” she said, pressing her thumb against her lips. “When I saw that Dorothy’s hand was ready to plummet to my face, I grabbed hold of a prune, ready to make this act complete—“

  “No way,” snapped Bethany. “Why is everyone in this household insane? Why? Granny, you went totally out of line!—“

  “Let her continue, Bethany,” said James. “I want to hear this!”

  “Gweneth, your pranking is really getting out of hand,” said George. “Goodness, do you even realize what you did—“

  Gweneth sighed. “It was just a little fun. Besides, I wanted to see if this young lady here is worthy of my grandson.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  She walked forward, standing before me, with a pleasant smile across her aged lips.

  “You didn’t blame him,” she said. “You could have, to save yourself the embarrassment. Everyone’s attention and anger would be off of you, and onto him, but you didn’t do that. Why?”

  The room had grown quiet once again, and all eyes were on me, awaiting an answer. Her question rang in my head, blaring over my mind, but I had no idea how to respond. Why didn’t I blame James? Why did I take the blame alone?

  I didn’t know myself.

  “Maybe,” I said. “Because…I…I care for him. I didn’t want him to get in trouble—“

  �
��That’s exactly what won me over,” said Gweneth. “Congratulations. I don’t like many people, and I sure as hell don’t trust them. But today, you’ve won my trust, and a spot in my good books. Anyways, I’m awfully tired. I’m off to bed. All this excitement has made me sleepy—“

  “Gweneth,” George snapped. “We have to discuss this! What you did was most inappropriate—“

  “Toodles!” Gweneth waved, skipping down the room. “And don’t be such a bore, George! Come to bed. The children will see Dorothy and James out. We old folks need to rest! Well, you’re still old. I’m seventeen at heart!”

  I smiled as George nodded me a goodbye, following after his wife, who had disappeared around the corner of the room.

  They were definitely the strangest old couple I’d ever met, but also the warmest. George really loved her, and for a moment, I wondered if anyone would love me as much. Unknowingly, my eyes wandered to James, who ran a hand through his dark brown hair, looking exhausted.

  Bethany stomped towards me, freshly manicured hands placed sternly on her hips.

  She stood before me, her eyes rolling.

  “You’re a joke,” she said. “I’m just letting you know—“

  “Bethany!” Rosaline scolded. “Please don’t talk to the maid like that—“

  My eyes snapped to Rosaline, as she placed a hand over her mouth, as though afraid she’d slipped out her true persona.

  “I’m an ex maid,” I corrected. “I stopped working there. But I might try waitressing next, so you can call me a waitress next time. I’ve got to pay the bills somehow.”

  I wasn’t sure if she understood my sarcasm, for she simply nodded her head, walked towards her daughter, dragging her out of the room.

  “I’m truly sorry, Dorma,” Rosaline said.

  “Dorothy,” I corrected. “My name is Dorothy—“

  “Of course,” she said. “Well, goodnight then…Dorothy.”

  “Mom, let me go!” Bethany shouted. “I’m not done talking to the maid--”

  “She’s a waitress!”

  Rosaline’s perfectly poised face had grown wicked, as she glared at her daughter, her chest rising and falling.

  My brows rose, and this time, I couldn’t help but smile. I had a feeling Rosaline was holding back her animosity towards me the entire time at the dinner. She really hated me- I could tell from the look in her eyes that said “you’re below me”. But the fact that she was faltering on her fake act, was amusing.

  James was right. She really was rotten on the inside.

  “I mean…she’s going to be a waitress,” she corrected. “Wait…no…never mind. I hope I didn’t offend you, dear. I just get so flustered around strangers. Not that you’re a stranger, but you know what I mean, darling.”

  Bethany scoffed, and then yelped, as Rosaline dragged her by the wrist, leading her out of the room.

  “This isn’t over, Web!” Bethany called, as they both exited the room.

  I frowned, annoyed that she was so hostile towards me, but it didn’t really get to me, because she was just a kid. The most she could do is insult me, and she didn’t look smart enough to pull out any evil plans either. But the person, who did worry me, was Rosaline- who pretended to act sweet, but was actually very bitter inside.

  As I stood in the hollow space of the room, I wondered what Rosaline’s issue was.

  “Well, I’m going to the car,” James announced. “What a day. Come on, let’s go—“

  “I’ll come in a bit,” I told him. “I need to drink water.”

  He sighed. “Alright. Don’t make me wait too long.”

  I frowned. “Just go.”

  He smirked, turned, and walked down the room, exiting out the door. I exhaled a deep breath, heading towards the table, and grabbing the glass of water. I drank it in one gulp, placed the glass back on the table, and sighed.

  My energy was drained.

  As I turned around, heading towards the open door, a finger tapped my shoulder, stopping me in place.

  “Your purse.” The voice was unfamiliar, and as I turned, I almost yelped.

  It was that curly haired boy I’d seen earlier that day, reading a book in his lap. I couldn’t remember his name, and I swear I hadn’t even seen him at the dinner table. It was as though he had appeared out of thin air, but that was impossible. I must have not noticed him since he was quiet the entire time at the dinner. He hadn’t even shown any reaction to his step grandmother falling. That was a bit strange.

  Giving him a wary smile, I took the purse, holding it over my wrist.

  “Thanks,” I said. “James told me you’re studying art. That’s awesome. What type? Abstract? Modern?”

  He was a thin guy, and towered a head over me, his light green eyes dropping to the floor. With his shoulders hunched, his expression reminded of a wounded rabbit, as he walked around me. He dashed out the room, exiting through the door, leaving me confused.

  Perhaps he was just very shy.

  “Your first day to meet the Bellevue’s and already you’ve made quite a stir, Ms. Web. Oh, forgive me. I mean to say…Mrs. Web.” Richard’s voice danced along the walls of the room, as his footsteps neared.

  For a reason unknown to me, I shivered.

  He walked around, standing before me, giving me his usual poker face. But within his stale expression, there was a hint of amusement in his eyes that refused to reach his lips. His dark brown gaze stared intently at me, as though ready to burn holes through my flesh.

  I recalled the events of yesterday- how he’d yelled at me to get out of his car when I asked about his relationship with Valencio. He must have hated that I was prying into his life, and I guess, I would hate someone prying into my personal business too. Especially if it was a stranger I’d just met.

  “About yesterday,” I began. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything regarding your private life, because that’s none of my business and if you’re worried about me exposing your secret, I promise, I won’t and—“

  Richard’s arm wrapped over my waist, squeezing me so close, I could hear the soft exhale of his breath against my cheek.

  I should have escaped out of his embrace then and there, but I couldn’t move. I was shocked into place, as my eyes bulged, gaping at him. My heart thundered in my chest, and I could feel my knees begin to shake, as he pressed me further against his chest. Anger flashed over his eyes- his angular jaw clenched, as he dipped his head towards me. For a moment, my eyes closed, but then, as though an alarm sounded off in my mind, I jerked my head to the side, refusing his incoming kiss.

  Why was he trying to do that anyway? Was everyone in this house hold insane?

  “Let go!” I snapped. “If you don’t let me go right now, I swear I’ll kick you so hard, you won’t be able to walk the next day!”

  That was a lame insult, but it was the best I could come up with, and I did mean it. As his arm wrapped tighter against me, I snapped my eyes to his, giving him the hardest kick I could manage.

  But his legs must have been made of steel, for he didn’t even flinch. He dipped me down, like a sailor from an old painting had dipped his lady love, his dark eyes staring sinfully at me.

  “I’m warning you,” I continued. “I’ll scream—“

  His hand covered over my lips, muffling my scream, and though I bit into his palm, he ignored the pain. He lifted me towards him, his hand still over my mouth, and another hand pressing my waist so tightly against his stomach, I could feel the solid shape of his abs.

  “Let’s get one thing straight,” he whispered, glaring. “I’m not gay, and even if I was, it doesn’t concern you. Stay the hell out of my way. You don’t want to get on my bad side. Trust me. And don’t look at me like that…I just might fall for you, and if I do, you’ll have nowhere to run. You’ll be mine.”

  Chapter Nine

  I gaped at my stunned reflection from his irises, which were a millimeter away from me, as he pressed me tightly against his stomach. My chest rose and fe
ll- the beats of my heart thumping erratically, as Richard’s flaming gaze sizzled through my flesh.

  I bit into his palm with a fierce might, and he yelped, releasing me from his iron grip. He took three steps back, shaking his palm in air-glaring.

  “You don’t get to touch me,” I hissed. “I didn’t do anything to deserve that! I’ll stay out of your way, don’t worry about that. I don’t know how anyone would want to be near a monster like you!”

  He shot me a bitter smile, and placed his hands in the pockets of his black trousers. His grey dress shirt was wrinkled at the chest, and I vaguely wondered whether it was because of our close proximity from moments ago.

  I shook my head, not wanting to dwell on that.

  “I’m not buying the act,” he said. “Something’s up between you and James, and it sure as hell isn’t this great love story you two are trying to convince the idiots in this house—“

  I scoffed. “Think what you like. It doesn’t matter to me. Bye.”

  As I turned, clicking my heels out the room, I couldn’t help but hate his perceptiveness. It was only the second day since I’d met him, and already he’d figured out that something was wrong with mine and James’s “marriage”. If he spilled the truth to his Grandfather, then James would get cut off, which would mean that our marriage plan would fail, ultimately resulting in the demise of Rosefield shelter.

  My head throbbed.

  The following morning was the first day of summer classes at Arlington University, and also my final semester. I had only one class to complete in order to graduate, and I was told by a fellow classmate, that the Professor is an odd ball.

  Walking through the double doors of the classroom, which was set in an auditorium, I watched the other students settle in a circle at the center of the stage. Large velvet curtains rested against either side of the stage, as I went up the steps, taking a seat at the corner of the circle. Most of the students were mingling amongst each other, but the rest were either staring at their phones or staring into space.

  I was so grateful that no one recognized me. I guess no one read the gossip column in newspapers anymore.