The penthouse feels too big for me. Its elegant, of course, every inch of it designed with a kind of perfection that makes me feel like Im living inside a maseurs. The floors gleam underfoot, the walls adorned with modern art pieces that scream wealth. The view from the floor–to–roof windows is confounding
a general scene of New Yorks skyline that feels as far off as all the other things in this world
I step into the living room, my heels clicking against the cool marble floors, however the sound appears to be suppressed here, consumed by the huge space around me. Alexander it now sitting on the lounge chair, a glass of whiskey in hand, the cool amber liquid getting the light. He doesnt even look at
me when I enter
Make yourself comfortable he says, his voice smooth but detached. It’s as if he’s speaking to a guest, not a wife,
I nod awkwardly, uncertain where to start. The quiet stretches between us, thick and choking
He hasn’t spoken much since we left the wedding, In fact, he hasn’t spoken much at all since the ceremony. The only time I’ve heard his voice was when he promised to take care of everything after our vows were said and done.
He looks at me then, his gaze sharp, assessing, I meet his eyes for a moment, but quickly glance away, feeling exposed. It’s almost like I’m being evaluated. Tested. As if my every move is scrutinized.
TIL. I’ll change into something more comfortable, I say, the words awkward in the stillness of the room.
Do what you need to Alexander replies, his tone indifferent.
I turn and stroll towards the room, the heaviness of his indifference squeezing against my chest. The room feels like it could gulp down me, and the silence is a steady update that this is my life now. A daily existence I didnt request.
The bedroom is pretty much as cold and clean as the rest of the penthouse, the bed excessively large for one individual, not to mention two. I put my purse down on the end table and stroll into walk–in closet, picking the main thing I see a simple,oversized sweater and some leggings. The garments feel like a relief. Not a big deal Just comfortable.
–
But, even as I change, I cannot shake the inclination that everything in this apartment, in my life presently, is only a deception. I don’t belong here, and I’m not certain I, at any point will.
When I emerge, Alexander is standing at the window again, his back to me. I’m still not used to the silence between us. It’s suffocating, I wish I knew what to say to break it, however every endeavor appears to be vain. What do you share with a man who doesn’t care about you? To a man who clarifies that this marriage is an arrangement, not a real relationship?
I sit down on the lounge chair, my hands curving in my lap. I dont know why I’m actually attempting to figure him out. I don’t know why it matters. He’s not here to make me feel comfortable. He’s not here to help me understand what this marriage means, or how its supposed to work.
1 thought… I thought maybe we could talk,I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
He doesn’t turn around, but his voice comes, cold and sharp, from the darkness. Talk about what?
I bite my lip, unsure of what to say, I hadn’t really thought this through. About… about us. About this. What exactly did I sign up for?
For a moment, the silence stretches again, heavy and thick. Alexander doesn’t seem to move. And for a second, I wonder if he even heard me.
You signed up for a marriage he says, his tone even, almost too calm. A contract. And thats all it is.
1 flinch at his words, the finality in them stinging more than I’d care to admit. A contract?I repeat, my voice barely a whisper.
That’s what it is he says, his voice low and emotionless. Don’t fool yourself into thinking its anything more.
I feel the heaviness of his words, the coldness in them sinking profound into me. Briefly, I dont know what to say, I simply stay there, gazing at him, at the one who guaranteed me nothing but obligation.
My chest tightens. I want to scream, to shout at him, to tell him I’m more than this. But whats the point? He already made it clear.
My breath caches as the doorbell rings, breaking the tension in the room. It’s an odd intrusion, but I’m grateful for the distraction. Alexander doesn’t move, doesn’t seem startled by it. Instead, he takes another sip of his whiskey, as if hes waiting for me to do something. Are you going to get that? ask, not even sure why I speak.
He doesn’t respond to me at first, however after a long pause, he stands, at last moving toward the door. I stay there, uncertain of what to do, of what’s going to occur next. The quietness that had settled over us is presently thick with expectation, and I’m left to wonder what sort of man I’ve wedded.
When Alexander opens the door, a tall, stern–faced man steps inside, holding a file. His expression is unreadable, and as soon as he enters, his gaze flickers toward me, then Immediately back to Alexander. He doesnt acknowledge my presence, which suits me just fine.
Whats this?Alexander asks, his tone professional but still cold.
CHAPTER
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Just an update on the deal, the man says, his voice low. He hands the file over, but Alexander doesn’t take it right away. His eyes flicker to me briefly.
Take care of it,Alexander says, his words clipped.
The man nods and leaves without another word. I’m left sitting there, the weight of the situation crushing me.
I’m sorry, I say suddenly, surprising myself. I dont know what I expected. I just thought… I dont know what I thought.
Alexanders expression softens for a moment, but it’s gone in a flash. He puts the file down and turns to face me.
You thought this would be a fairy tale?he asks, his voice hardening again. You’ve been living in a dream.
Time to awaken.
The words hit me harder than I expected, and I feel something break inside me.
Theres no warmth in him. Theres no softness, no reassurance. Only cold and hard reality.
But then, just before I can say anything, he speaks again. His voice is quieter this time, a little softer, but still distant.
You’ll have to get used to it, Leila. This is your life now.
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat growing larger. I want to shout. I want to scream at him, tell him this isnt fair, that Im not a doll for him to manipulate. But I dont I stay there, quiet, watching him turn away again, his back to me as he strolls toward the window.
What’s more,just like that, the door to my new life closes.
The reality of it all–the isolation, the coldness, the absence of everything I thought I might find–settles over me, heavier than anything I’ve ever experienced.
My chest tightens as I realize there is no escaping it now. This is my reality. And I dont know if I’ll ever be able to survive it.
Just as I’m about to leave the couch, the phone on the side table rings. I hesitate, unsure if I should answer. But before I can make a decision, Alexanders voice calls out from across the room.
“Leila, answer that.”
I freeze. The tension in the air is thick, and a sick feeling twists in my stomach. What now? Whos calling at this hour? And what does Alexander know that I dont?
