The Dinner Party

Chapter 11

The Dinner Party.

Lyla Atelo.

My shoulders ached by the time I got home. They were heavy and sore, a testament to all the heavy books I had been carrying since this week began.

"Lyla, you're back." My husband's voice was the first thing that welcomed me as soon as I stepped on the porch. "And a little late..."

The last statement elicited a frown on my face. "Late? Do we have any appointments today?"

It was his turn to frown. "Today is the evening, Lyla. For the dinner party night."

I began to recall that he had indeed mentioned this to me. "Oh? It's this evening?" I sighed heavily. "I'm so sorry, Michael. I think I'll pass for now. I've been very tired recently from work. My entire body aches. I—"

The expression on Michael's face turned ugly. He didn't say a word as he strode back into the house. I followed quietly behind him until my eyes caught sight of something. It was too catchy not to notice.

"You bought a dress?" My voice came out slightly shocked.

"Yes, Lyla." He spun around, placing his hand on the nearest sofa which carried his suit and tie. "I told you how much the CEO fancies a family oriented person. This is one of my chances to make it big, and you're telling me you can't come because you're tired?" The pain in his eyes was evident. "If you really care so much about me, care about this marriage, Lyla... You will freshen up and hop into this dress."

I know he didn't mean to make it look like a threat, but it felt the same anyway. Again, he was right. I was supposed to support him as my husband. This was one of his dreams, among many others that had been swept under the carpet.

I stepped forward to examine the dress between my fingers. It was silk, and really expensive— I could tell by how it felt under my skin. My eyes travelled up the bodice and this was when an uncomfortable look crossed my face. The dress was not only a size smaller than me, but it was a corset dress! Did he want me to suffocate?

"Michael..." I whispered. "Don't worry about the dress. I'll have to wear something else. This isn't my size."

He looked at the dress before he looked at me. "No, Lyla. If you are coming, you're going to have to wear that dress. That size has always been your size, and it's not my fault you got bigger." Then, he raised his hand in surrender. "It's not like I'm complaining, but still.... All other women will be wearing the same thing, and as my wife, you can't look entirely different. I checked your wardrobe before buying that, you don't have anything decent enough to join me at the party. I guess you'd just have to suck it up. It's only for a few hours."

"Only for a few hours?" I murmured under my breath.

I was tired, and I was really hungry. Putting on this dress would have to mean that I wouldn't eat anything if I wanted to survive for even five minutes.

"Hurry up, we don't have much time left." Michael said beside me, beginning to unbutton his house shirt. "You have barely an hour to finish freshening up. I also got you some jewellery to go with the gown. Check it, you'll like it."

"What about the shoes?" I hadn't seen anyone anywhere.

"You'll sort that one out yourself. If you don't have something presentable, you would have to borrow it from the family next door. I'm sure you've acquainted yourself with them after all these years."

I shook my head to myself. What did I expect? An understanding husband who would— But, wait... Why was I being so selfish? Why was I grumbling inside? I know I was tired, but he was right. I had to suck it up. He's my husband, and I have to obey him... at least, that's what was drilled into my head over and over again before I got married.

He was the pride of the Atelo family, and my poor parents were more than happy to sell me off to the highest bidder, presenting me as highly religious and obedient. Just the kind of woman that the Atelo family wanted for their son. The first year with him was tolerable, the second was a nightmare, and he had disappeared in the third year for six years. Now, he was back.

When the water was pooling down my body in the shower, that was when the curtains were pulled open. I jumped in shock at the intrusion. I hadn't heard anyone come in.

Michael stood in front of the bathtub, staring at me with a cunning smile on his face. I realized that he was naked as well.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" My voice came out in tiny gasps as I used my hands to cover the sensitive parts of my body, but that didn't stop his eyes from roaming over my body.

"I figured we should do something that would make your skin flushed... to give you the glow of a happily married woman." He leaned against the wall, his eyes not leaving my body.

My stomach turned in disgust. This did not feel right to me, but—

"My make-up can do that for me, Michael."

Michael rubbed his thumb and index finger together while watching me, his expression unreadable.

"One day, Lyla... Just one day, I wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."