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“Robin,” I explain. “Sarah will take you shopping. She will coordinate deliveries, and she has all my card details.”
“What?” Robin screeches. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“She’s not a babysitter. She’s a personal shopper,” I exclaim.
Robin looks at me like I’m speaking Greek.
“But—” Robin says.
“But nothing,” I say with more force than required. “You’re more than halfway through your pregnancy. I would prefer it if you have company.”
“Fine,” Robin huffs and then walks out, a petrified-looking Sarah at her heels.
When they return in the evening, I ask Sarah about their day.
“She refuses to use your card,” Sarah informs me before leaving for the night.
Over the next few days, in an attempt to compensate for my inability to be as present as a traditional loving and doting husband would be, I begin showering Robin with expensive gifts: designer clothes, jewelry, and even a new nursing chair for when the baby arrives just so she can be comfortable. I expect her to be touched, maybe even grateful, but instead, she either returns the items, like the jewelry box placed neatly on my desk, or ignores them altogether, like the unopened gift boxes lying in the hallway with her name on them.
It's clear that we still have a long way to go before either of us can understand how the other thinks. And as much as I want to reach out and comfort her, I know I need to focus on earning her trust first.
Calling her out on perceived slights might not be the best option.
"Keep your distance," I remind myself once more, my heart aching at the thought. "But don't give up. She's worth fighting for."
And with that, I call my sister Anoushka.
"Little sister, I need your help," I confess as soon as she answers. There's no point in hiding the turmoil in my voice.
"Of course, Boris. What's going on?" Her concern is genuine, and I'm grateful for it.
"It’s Robin... I've been trying to win her over with gifts, but she either returns them or ignores them. And I’m trying so desperately to make her comfortable in this house, to know my assets are hers. This marriage is tougher to navigate than I thought it would be.”
Anoushka chuckles softly. "Boris, you big oaf. You don't need to shower her with expensive things. Women appreciate quality time more than material possessions. Focus on building a genuine connection with her."
"Quality time?" The idea seems so simple, yet we've both neglected it in our forced union.
"Exactly. Plan a special evening together, just the two of you. Show her you're willing to put in the effort to make this work."
"Alright," I agree, feeling hope flicker within me. "I'll try that.”
***
Taking my sister's advice to heart, I try to give Robin quality time and attention.
"Boris, is there something I can help you with?" Robin asks, her voice hesitant as she enters my office later that day after I sent the under-secretary to get her.
"Actually, Robin, I wanted to invite you to have dinner with me tonight. On the rooftop," I say, struggling to keep my voice steady. "I realized we haven't spent much time together outside of work, and I thought it might be nice to catch up.”
“Catch up?” asks Robin, a hint of a smile lingering on her lips.So, she likes this idea.
"I’d like to know how your pregnancy is coming along and if there’s anything I can do to help you.”
“You mean? Like buying me a fleet of cars?” she raises an eyebrow.
“You noticed?”
“Of course I did. You leave before I do, and it didn’t take long for me to realize it’s the same fleet that brings me to work and takes me to my doctor’s appointments and whatever else I need to do. You really didn’t have to.”
