Mrs. Anderson

The text arrived three days after Luke's proposal.

Dinner tonight. My parents' house. 7 pm. The driver will pick you up at 6:30. Wear something formal.

It was an instruction delivered with the certainty that I would comply.

I stared at the message, understanding what it meant. Meeting his family made this real. It had become a situation I couldn't back out of without consequences.

My hands shook as I typed back: Okay.

His response came instantly: Good. They'll hate you. Don't take it personally.

Wonderful.

The Anderson estate made my family's house look modest. Old money translated into actual architecture with sprawling grounds, historical significance, the kind of wealth that didn't need to announce itself because everyone already knew.

Luke met me at the door. He looked at my dress, black, simple, the most formal thing I owned, and nodded once.

"You look appropriate."

"Thanks?"

"It's a compliment. My mother values presentation above almost everything else." He offered his arm. "Ready?"

"No."

"Good. Honesty will serve you better than confidence here."

He led me inside to a dining room that could have seated twenty. Only four people waited: an older couple who had to be his parents, and an elderly woman whose sharp eyes tracked my entrance with precision.

"Mother, Father." Luke's voice stayed neutral. "This is Mara Vale. Mara, my parents, Robert, and Margaret Anderson. And my grandmother, Eleanor."

Margaret's smile was ice wrapped in politeness. "Miss Vale. How unexpected."

"Mrs. Anderson. Thank you for having me."

"Luke didn't give us much choice." She gestured to an empty chair positioned directly across from her. "Please, sit. We're eager to learn more about you."

The dinner was an interrogation disguised as conversation. Margaret asked about my family, my education, and my "plans for the future" with an inflection that suggested she already knew my plans were inadequate.

Robert said little, but his silence felt judgmental.

Eleanor's attention never wavered nor softened; it was simply intense, making Luke's assessment seem gentle by comparison.

"And what does your father do, dear?" Margaret asked.

"He's retired."

"From?"

"Finance." 

"How interesting. And your mother?"

"She manages the household."

"No career of her own, then."

The condescension was subtle but unmistakable. 

"She chose to focus on family."

"How traditional." Margaret's smile sharpened. "And you? Do you plan to continue working?" She said it like work was a communicable disease.

"I haven't decided."

"Well, once you're married to Luke, I imagine you'll have other priorities. The Anderson name comes with certain expectations. Social obligations, charitable work, maintaining appropriate appearances."

"Mother," Luke started.

"I'm simply educating Miss Vale on what marriage to an Anderson entails. Unless you've already discussed these expectations with her."

Luke's jaw tightened.

"We've discussed the important things," I said carefully.

"Have you?" Margaret set down her silverware. "Then you understand that this family has standards. We have a legacy and a name to protect. We have a reputation that took generations to build. We can't afford complications."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning Luke's choice of wife rubs off on all of us. And frankly, dear, you seem unprepared for that level of scrutiny."

"That's enough." Luke's voice cut through the tension. "Mara is my choice. If you can't be civil …"

"We're being perfectly civil," Robert spoke for the first time. "Your mother is expressing concerns we all share. This engagement is sudden. Miss Vale's background is modest, to put it mildly. So, you can understand our hesitation."

"I don't require your approval."

"No. But you should consider what this marriage costs. Not financially, of course, that's irrelevant, but socially and professionally. Every business associate, board member, and every person who matters in this city will scrutinize your wife. Can she handle that pressure?"

All eyes were on me. 

"I can handle it," I said quietly.

"Can you?" Margaret leaned forward. "Because the moment you marry Luke, your life becomes public property. Every choice will be scrutinized. Every mistake will be amplified. It's not a role for someone unprepared."

"I'm prepared."

"Are you? Or are you just desperate enough to agree to anything?"

Luke stood abruptly, chair scraping against hardwood.

"We're done here."

"Luke!"

"I said we're done. Mara, let's go."

He didn't wait for me to stand as he walked toward the door with the expectation that I would follow. I rose on shaking legs, feeling Margaret's satisfaction and Robert's disapproval radiating behind me.

"Miss Vale." Eleanor's voice stopped me. "A moment."

I turned. She'd risen from her seat with elegance that is uncommon among people her age.

"Yes, Mrs. Anderson?"

"Walk with me."

She moved toward the veranda, and I followed, aware of Luke watching from the doorway.

Outside, Eleanor gazed at the darkening grounds before speaking. "You're afraid."

"I'm fine."

"Don't lie. You're terrified of my daughter-in-law, this family, and what you're agreeing to." She turned to face me fully. "Good. Fear means you're paying attention."

"I don't understand."

"My grandson is brilliant and ruthless and completely controlled. He doesn't make careless decisions. If he's chosen you, it's for reasons that benefit him." She looked straight at me. "Do you understand what you're walking into?"

"Yes."

"I don't think you do. But you will." She reached out and gently adjusted my necklace. "Survive the scrutiny, Miss Vale. If you can do that, you might survive the marriage."

She walked back inside, leaving me alone on the veranda with her warning echoing in my ears.

Luke walked up to me moments later. "I apologize on their behalf."

"You don’t have to. I understand they're protecting their family."

"They were cruel."

"They were honest." I turned to face him. "Am I making a mistake, Luke?"

"About marrying me?"

"Do you think I can handle the pressure?"

He stared at me for a while. "You're stronger than you think. But yes, this will be difficult. My family won't accept you easily. Society will question why I married you and not someone else. You'll be under constant

 scrutiny." 

"Do you think I can survive that?"

"I think you've survived worse." He offered his hand. "Come on. Let's get you home."

The wedding took place three weeks later. It was a small ceremony with only immediate family members present. Everyone pretended to be happy, even though they only put on fake smiles for the camera.

Luke kissed me at the altar. It was brief and completely without passion.

His mother watched with poorly concealed disapproval. His father looked resigned. Eleanor observed with calculating intensity.

I smiled through it all. Smiled through the reception, through the congratulations that felt like condolences, through the car ride to Luke's apartment, where I would now live.

He showed me to my bedroom, separate from his, down the hall.

"Goodnight, Mara."

"Goodnight."

He shut the door and left.

I sat on the bed, touching the wedding ring that felt heavier than it should.

Three months is all I needed to save money, establish documents in my name, and create an exit strategy that didn't depend on anyone's protection but mine.

I shimmied out of my wedding dress and hung it carefully in the closet. Then, I looked at myself in the mirror: Mrs. Anderson now, at least on paper.