Ch. 14 - THE INVITATION

LINDEN

Andrea twirled her fork around the pasta without bringing it to her mouth. The clink of cutlery was the only sound that filled space between us. Our lunches had always been quiet, but this one was unusually uncomfortable.

“When are you resuming school, Andrea?” I asked, slicing through my grilled turkey.

Her eyes remained on her plate as she responded. “In two weeks time.”

I nodded once. “Good. That means you'll be around for Willow's wedding.”

She looked up now, eyes wide with anticipation. “Willow’s coming today?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t ask anything else. She pushed her food around like the plate was gold. Her demeanor changed completely. It was not a secret that Andrea's mood lightened up whenever my twin sister was around. And that was more of the reason I asked Willow to stay away.

This was best for Andrea. I am a good father and every decision I made was for her benefit.

I leaned back in my chair, resting the edge of the wine glass against my upper lip without drinking. My thoughts slipped to Jensyn again. Since the night she broke in my arms like something fragile, then disappeared into her room as if it hadn't happened, I hadn't seen her.

According to the maids, she took her meals in her room. She never ventured into the kitchen. I never caught a glimpse of her in the hallway. She remained entirely out of sight.

She became a ghost in my house.

I wasn't sure what to make of that night. Offering comfort had never been my strength—it was unfamiliar. But I did what was necessary. I held her while she broke apart in my arms, crying in a way that was raw.

I was beginning to wonder if she’d ever resurface when the sound of footsteps neared the table. I looked up.

Jensyn.

She took her seat slowly, her eyes glassy from sleep, hair messily tied back like she had given up brushing it half way. She wore a loose top and linen crepe pants. It was the kind of outfit that said she didn't care who was watching her. She barely glanced my way as she called a maid to serve her.

The maid served her and set her plate down. Jensyn in turn gave her a small, distracted nod of thanks and began to eat without a word.

Andrea didn’t greet her. Jensyn didn’t greet Andrea. It was weird. I watched Jensyn chew slowly, eyes fixed on her plate like it held all her answers. I wanted to talk, say anything, but I couldn't speak.

What was I supposed to say? This thing was new to me. Her presence was new, it was something I had never imagined. I had never imagined a woman aside from Willow would sit with me at the table.

And so what did I do to solve the situation? I allowed the lunch to drag in silence. When Andrea stood and left the table, Jensyn did the same. She picked up her napkin, and I spoke.

“Sit.”

She stiffened, but didn't turn immediately. It was as if she was weighing whether to obey or not. Finally, she lowered the napkin, turned, and sat beside me this time, not across. I noticed the way her arms folded loosely.

“You’ll be meeting Willow today,” I said.

She looked up, her lashes heavy over tired eyes. “Alright.”

“She’s the only one you've not met in my family. So, you know the drill. I made sure that nasty picture flying around got pulled down before seeing the next day, so she wouldn't know anything. Make sure you act the way you've always acted when we are out.”

She gave a small shrug. “Okay.”

It baffled me that this conversation had no sarcasm, no fight, no quiet resignation. It almost made it worse. I wanted her to say more. To challenge me, to question me. But she just sat there, and when I said nothing, she stood, the scrape of her chair deliberate this time, and walked out of the dinning room without another glance at me.

I let her go, knowing her silence was louder than any fight. I didn't want to break it though. I finished the last sip of my wine and set the glass on the table. I had to do something to get my mind off the shit that was happening in this house.

I rose and made my way to my study. If Jensyn was going to wear the crown of being my wife in front of Willow, I needed to remember why I’d placed it on her head in the first place.

To ACT as my wife.

***

Willow arrived just before sunset, sunlight caught the glint of gold threads woven into her jacket. Her heels clicked confidently across the marble, announcing her presence like a Queen. Long waves of honey-blonde hair bounced with every elegant stride she took. She was tall and graceful, all chiselled cheekbones and red lips. She looked nothing like me, but more like our mum.

I watched as she extended her arms and Jensyn, ever polite, leaned into the hug without quite giving away too much.

Jensyn sat down, legs crossed. She looked well put together, better than how she looked earlier. After the pleasantries, Willow sat down, amused.

“Now, I'm finally meeting you.”

“You're beautiful.” Jensyn complimented.

Willow laughed, throwing back her head. “And you are prettier than I imagined,” she said, looking her up and down. “I told Linden he needed someone with worth. He doesn’t need someone with plastic surgeries.”

“Say less, Willow.” I said, my voice barely audible. I knew she was referring to Susanne.

Talking about that woman, she hadn't done anything to warrant me walking up to her and arguing with her. It was best she stayed silent.

“I hope you enjoyed your stay.”

Willow waved her hand in dismissal. “The cold was much. I had to run back home. I haven't even seen my husband.”

I growled, my jaw clenched. “You're not married yet.”

There was a beat of silence when I said that and Jensyn, unlike her character, decided to fill it. “Well, Willow, this is me congratulating you on your wedding.”

“Thank you,” she laughed and continued, linking her arm through Jensyn's like they had known each other longer than the breath of this meeting. “And I hope you didn't take offense with what I said? It's just that every woman Linden brings to this house, they have ambition dripping off their feet.”

“I don’t wear ambition on my feet,” Jensyn said softly. “It’s too easy to get Linden.”

I didn’t speak. I just watched. How sharp could her tongue go in pretending? She did this effortlessly.

Willow smiled. “I like her,” she said, tossing the words over her shoulder at me. “I hope you keep her.”

We had dinner and it was different from the ones we've had. Willow ensured everyone spoke at the table, even Andrea spoke to her.

After everyone had left the dining room, I lingered at the bar until Jensyn rose from her seat. She spoke all evening. She said the things necessary as a wife. She made it easy to forget she was fake from the onset.

“Jensyn,” I said.

She paused, one hand resting on the back of the chair.

“I want you to come with me to Willow’s wedding.” She didn't react so I went on, “It’s a weeklong vacation. You and I will be... visible, I guess. We would be together most of the time. That’s the whole point of this thing, isn’t it?” I kept my tone even. “Can you manage it?”

“I can,” she said, her voice low. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

That was fair.

She turned, ready to go. I wasn’t sure why I stopped her again.

“I know it’s asking a lot,” I said.

“I know what I signed when I asked for 3% of what you own.” And with that, she left me. I stayed behind, not because I wasn't sleepy but because the presence of Willow, Jensyn's act, and the shift in Andrea's attitude brought back many memories that would warrant me to cry.

I remembered the last time I cried. Not some dignified drop of tears as a man, no, I am talking about the time I ugly, animal cried. It wasn’t when Andrea’s mother died. No, I didn’t cry for her. Not even once did I do that. I cried because of WHY she had died. Because the truth of it had shredded something inside me I had pushed to the back of my mind.

It wasn't the guilt, not the blame. It was the memory of telling her to vanish, that she meant nothing nor was it the phone calls that came after. The sirens, and then the wail of a baby not up to two weeks old.

That didn't make me cry.

I hated thinking about what made me cry. I hated the part of me that was still twisted up in that moment, no matter how hard I worked to bury it under money and meetings.

And now here was Jensyn, with her soft voice and her will to peel me open without trying. And there was Arthur's impossible task.

I didn’t like this.

I didn't like this at all.