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For the next few hours, we might as well have been part of the rehearsal squad for a movie montage. I tried on so many dresses, it made my head spin, but somehow, I also left the store with scarves, classy loungewear, and a few new outfits appropriate for work.

Already weighed down by several beautiful shopping bags, Tasha dragged me to a jewelry shop next and I walked out with a few delicate, thin gold bracelets that perfectly matched the classic gold of my new wedding band. The only thing I hadn’t found was a pair of earrings. Everything I looked at was either too heavy or too gaudy, but the rest of the trip had been a resounding success.

The gown for the gala itself was an absolute masterpiece. The shoes that went with it somehow, magically, felt like I was walking on either air or sunshine, and for the first time ever, my wardrobe had received an update. I’d finally be able to get rid of some of the clothes I’d had since high school.

When we finally got back home, the house was blissfully quiet. Tasha checked her watch, realized she was almost late for a seminar, and flew out the front door with her backpack bouncing as she ran.

Left entirely alone, I carried my purchases up to my bedroom and took at least an hour carefully arranging my new things in my closet. I hung the clothes with the greatest of care, folding what had to be folded and extracting what could be donated.

As I worked, a warm hum lingered in my chest, that same relief I’d felt back at the boutique when I’d realized I could afford to indulge just the tiniest bit. Maybe it was silly, but I felt like a real person again, someone who worked hard and as a result didn’t have to keep wearing clothes that were at least ten years old.

Now that I wasn’t drowning in a sea of back taxes and student loans, my salary would actually allow me to live comfortably, if frugally. I definitely wouldn’t be going on a shopping trip like that every month, but I’d finally be able to afford new underwear when I needed it instead of the same threadbare pairs I’d had for half a decade.

On that note…

I strode over to my dresser, emptying all my socks, panties, and bras and cringing at the state some were in. After throwing out what had been mended so many times that they were more patches than garment, I sat down on my bed and let out a relieved sigh.

It may not be spring, but literally cleaning out my closet feels pretty darn good.

Just as I was trying to convince myself that today had signified the start of a new chapter, one that definitely wouldn’t be all bad, the thud of the front door closing downstairs echoed through the floorboards.

I glanced down at the watch on my wrist and sighed when I saw the time, my heart stammering in my chest. Tasha wouldn’t be done for another couple hours, which meant Holden was home.

A sudden urge washed over me to talk to him. With the gala looming ahead this weekend, I had a great excuse to try to bridge the awkward gap between us. At some point, he and I probably had to talk about the future, but for now, I’d settle for just a civil conversation about what to expect at the fundraiser.

Maybe from there, we could work on actually being friends, but we had to start somewhere, and properly coordinating our united front seemed like a good place. If I wanted to prove to him that I was taking this seriously, that I wasn’t just a lazy gold digger, then I had to at least try.

Rising from the bed, I smoothed out my sweater, took a deep breath, and quietly padded down the stairs. The gown had fit perfectly, not a single alteration required, and I’d already decided to take that as a sign that everything was going to be okay.

So far, everything about this arrangement—except for my actual interactions with my husband himself—had gone smooth as silk. The paperwork had been compiled and filed without a hitch, Holden and I had both shown up on the day, the money had landed in my account exactly as scheduled, and my payments to the city and the bank had cleared. Our first dinner at Nora’s house had gone well and even that day when he’d driven me to work hadn’t been awful.

Surely, that has to mean something. It has to. Eventually, we’re going to be alright. I know we are.

As I reached the landing, however, the low rumble of Holden’s voice drifted from the living room. It sounded like he was on the phone, so I paused on the bottom step, not wanting to barge in on a private conversation, but before I could clear my throat to announce my presence, the next words sliced through the air.

“—don’t think she has any idea what she’s walking into,” he was saying, his voice positively oozing that familiar, icy derision as he paced the length of the hardwood floor. A moment later, his heavy footsteps stopped near the window and he sighed. “It’s going to be a clusterfuck and it doesn’t have to be this way. We shouldn’t have to go.”

My grip tightened on the banister, my breath catching in my throat. I nearly scoffed out loud, but he went on, clearly oblivious to my presence. Or maybe not. Maybe he was letting me hear this so I would know where he stood.

“No, I’m serious,” he said firmly. “This is someone who reads fairy tales to toddlers for a living. It’s not fair. No one should have to be subjected to that without warning. We’re talking about the upper class of the entire city here. Just think about that for a second.”

There was a long pause as whoever was on the other end of the line replied. Then Holden let out a snort. “I don’t care. You can put a suit on a shark too, but that doesn’t make them… I don’t know, not a shark. There’s belonging and then there’s not belonging. It’s going to be a total embarrassment and I’m the one who’s going to have to pick up the pieces when the press⁠—”

A hot wave of humiliation crashed over me, turning my ears to lava and my chest into a raging cesspool of rage and indignation. A total embarrassment.

He thought I was going to be an embarrassment to his precious, snobbish family name. Clearly, he thought that just because I worked at a public library, I was some delicate, uncultured blob who would burst into tears if anyone so much as looked at me wrong.

He hadn’t even given me a chance, already writing me off as a liability. A piece of unwanted baggage he was being forced to hang around his neck and drag around.

I took a slow, silent step backward, retreating up the stairs before he could see me. No matter how hurt I was and how many choice words I had to hurl at him, I refused to let him see how deep he’d cut. I would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had the power to hurt me at all, actually, so I didn’t confront him.

Not yet.

Instead, I marched back to my bedroom, closing the door with a quiet, deliberate click behind me and flicking the lock for good measure. While I doubted he’d come find me, I didn’t want to see him right now. I needed to pull myself together first. Then—and only then—would I decide how to handle this.

I would not, however, do it on his terms. And to think, I was ready to bury the hatchet.

My hands shook with a volatile mix of anger and defiance as I stared at the closet where my beautiful, perfect new gown was hanging. Oh, you think I’m going to embarrass you, Holden Thayer? You think I’m going to shrink into a corner and fall apart?