Lacey’s POV
We rode a rental car back from the wedding.
Still wearing my wedding dress, I bundled my veil awkwardly beside me. Tiff had gone to stay with my friend Selena for the next few days while I settled into our new home, so it was just me, my new husband, and the chauffeur in the car.
And Nicholas didn’t seem like the sort of man to consider a chauffeur to be a person.
So, really, it was just he and I.
We rode most of the way back in silence, both of us gazing out separate windows. The silence grew to be unbearable. Finally, I twisted my head to look at him.
“Hi!” I waved awkwardly. “I’m. Um. Your… wife. I work as a barista, I’m in school for entrepreneurship, and I’m trying to get custody for my little sister Tiffany. That’s me. Who are you?”
His gaze met mine, and I felt myself slink back into my seat beneath the unwavering strength of it. This was a truly dominant man–a man not to be trifled with. I felt foolish for even speaking.
“I’m your husband, of course,” Nicholas said without so much of a smile.
I shook my head. “Nope. We’re married now. That’s not good enough.”
He heaved a sigh. “I’m… an executive at Empire Threads. Higher-up. I specialize in–oh, would you look at that? We’re here.”
“But–” my protest dissipated into thin air as the chauffeur pulled into the parking lot of a new-looking strip of condos, certainly livable but by no means impressive. “Oh!”
I followed Nicholas into the building complex, which was located in the heart of the bustling downtown area. He nodded once at the doorman and led us into the elevator, where we rode smoothly up to the seventh floor. The elevator’s floors were clean, one wall mirrored. It seemed like a comfortable-enough place to live.
As we stopped in front of a red door emblazoned with the brass number 7-18, Nicholas passed me a slender silver key on a plain keychain.
“This is yours,” he said.
“Oh–okay.” I managed to unlock the door, and couldn’t help but grin as I stepped into the condo.
The entire place was decorated simply but elegantly, all dark glass and sleek wood furniture and tasteful modern art hung from gray walls. Weak evening sunlight poured through flowy white blinds. The foyer smelled clean and fresh, like lemons. Interestingly enough, everything from the comfortable-looking red furniture to the side tables and flower vases looked to be brand new. The condo didn’t seem lived-in in the slightest.
Nicholas started to loosen his tie. I felt my face flush slightly at the quick movements of his hands, long fingers moving with a precise ease, wedding ring glinting. There was a sudden unexpected intimacy to the moment that left me feeling far more shy and nervous than I knew myself to be. Before I quite realized it, I was staring.
“What?” Nicholas asked, catching my eye. He raised an eyebrow as he undid the full windsor knot. “You should take a shower.”
I blinked. “I–um. Right. Yes. Of course.” My head whipped back and forth, auburn curls bouncing as I looked for a washroom.
“Your room’s across the hall.” He nodded towards the indicated direction.
“Thank you!” I said, and rushed hurriedly down the hall.
In the washroom, I pulled off my wedding dress quickly, then removed the sparkling pins and flowers from my hair. I felt a bit more like myself after that. Using a clean white washcloth–Nicholas didn’t seem to have any makeup wipes stocked–I removed as much of the wedding makeup as I could.
When I stepped into the shower, a gentle cascade of warm water fell onto me. The glass walls of the shower fogged up immediately. I took my time, rummaging through the expensive-looking soaps and oils and bath products until the day’s stress had washed off me.
I shut the water off and stepped onto a thick bathmat. Upon reaching for a towel, though, I realized I hadn’t brought a change of clothes into the washroom with me.
I pursed my lips, looking around the washroom. I’d wrapped the plush towel around my body already, but if I could find something a bit more modest, maybe a bathrobe, or could I somehow change back into my wedding dress to cross the hall…?
I was being ridiculous, I decided. This was my own home now, and I had a right to go get my own clothes no matter what state I was in. I let my feet dry on the mat for a few moments before twisting the bathroom door open.
Just as I started down the hallway, I bumped into something solid.
“Oh–” I looked up and, much to my horror, there was my husband.
His tie was gone, collared shirt unbuttoned a few. His hair was ever-so-slightly mussed. What was he doing outside the door? I tried to take a step back in shock, but he stepped towards me, following me until my back was pressed against the wall. Anger and aggression glinted in his dark blue eyes. He moved closer, closer, until I could feel his warm breath on my bare chest. I clutched my towel tightly to my body. What did Nicholas want with me? It was our wedding night, technically, I supposed, and there was no denying he was a handsome man, but he was still an absolute stranger to me, and here he was pressing me against the wall and leaning towards me and–
My heart ricocheted in my chest.
I swallowed anxiously. “What are you…?”
As quickly as he’d approached, he pulled away suddenly. “Get dressed,” Nicholas said dismissively. “And find me once you’re properly clothed. There’s something we need to discuss.”
“Oh–okay.” I blinked, still rather stunned, and managed a shaky smile. “Sorry.”
“It’s no problem,” he said.
And with that, he vanished back down the hallway.
I slapped my cheek. God, what was I stupidly fantasizing about!
If it hadn't been for the friendship of my long-dead grandfather's generation and my father's faithfulness that caused this marriage, I wouldn't even be here but in the hospital with my grandmother.
And… that man didn't even look like he wanted me. Maybe he's just another person who's forced to go through a routine. If this marriage wasn't what he wanted, I think I'd find a suitable time to talk to him. As long as my stepmom gives me what she promised, this man and I can both find a way out of this loveless marriage.
I started to check my room–which was furnished well enough, but lacked any actual personality–I found some comfortable-looking loungewear exactly my size. Out of curiosity, I checked the tags. Empire Threads again.
I found my husband sitting at the dining room table. He was wearing a pair of reading glasses and poring over a stack of important-looking papers. He jolted when he saw me, shoving the papers aside and setting his glasses down on the table.
“Hi,” I said slowly, sitting down at the table a couple chairs away from him. He didn’t seem to want me all that close.
“Hello,” Nicholas said. “Thank you for joining me. I think we ought to discuss the terms of our marriage agreement, don’t you?”
Oh… it looks like he was prepared for this.
I folded my hands in my lap. I tried to meet his gaze, but couldn’t bring myself to. “We… we should definitely do that, yeah.”
“This is an arranged marriage,” he said. “There’s no getting around that fact. We didn’t choose each other. I propose that our actual marriage function more or less like how our wedding did: we can act like a loving couple on the surface to dodge any real outside suspicion, but when it’s just the two of us, there’s no reason we’d need to behave like anything other than acquaintances.”
I did my best not to show any emotion as his words settled over me. “Right. That makes sense.”
“Of course,” Nicholas continued, “I will provide for all household expenses throughout the course of our marriage. And, after a year of marriage, once we divorce, you can keep everything related to the household–which includes the house and the car.”
“That sounds… great,” I managed, not quite sure how to respond. Could he afford to give away a car? To pay my rent even after we were married?
“But I need you to understand–and this is crucial, Lacey.” He looked me up and down for a moment. “There will be no substantial relationship between us.
I pursed my lips. “Right. Naturally.”
I ran a hand through my hair. I wasn’t sure how else I’d expected the conversation to go, honestly. More than anything, I was tired.
“Is there anything else–” I started to say, but Nicholas cut me off.
“Most importantly,” Nicholas said after a moment. His gaze locked onto me.
I sighed. “Yeah?”
“Never appear in front of me in a towel again.”
