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Chapter 1
Bethany
"I still don't understand why on tonight of all nights we have to go to a dinner party with all of those stuck up people," I tell my husband, Noah, hands on my hips. I know I am being a brat, at least in his eyes. I normally wouldn’t argue at all. I know that mingling in this new life of ours is important. It was the whole reason we made the big move from Miami to this glorious old plantation home outside of Pittsburgh not too long after we got together. He wanted the opportunities the local political climate afforded; like his chance now to be elected District Attorney.
I am really good at playing trophy wife; a role I have had now for exactly one year. It’s not like I mind all the time; I do love Noah.
Everything I have done over the past two years has been to make him happy and make this work between us.
But this one night, I want to pitch a fit because it is our one-year wedding anniversary, and bumping elbows with rich, conservative men with deep pockets and gossiping treacherous women is not how I want to spend the night together. I thought we would get some one-on-one time, even if it was only in our own home, in our own bed. I have been missing him like mad lately as he works to raise his status in the world and make things better by putting the bad guys away and defending those that need it most.
But, no, he is insisting that I get dressed to the nines and plaster a smile on my plump, injected lips, which he paid for, so I had the best lips of all our friends, and go to this party to support him and make him look good.
"C'mon, Beth, don't be difficult. You know how important this is. It isn’t like I enjoy being around most of these people either, but we need our game faces right now." I see a dimple appear, digging into the right side of his mouth, and I try not to just melt like butter. He knows how to get to me, but I want to stand my ground this time.
"It’s not that I don’t know this is important. I just . . ."
He comes up to me, his finger going over my lips to silence me. This is a signature move of his as he comes around and places a hand around my waist and holds me to his warm body. I let myself sink into him, enjoying the touch I have been craving. Being the wife of such a busy man means these intimate moments are fewer than I would like. But it makes it all the sweeter when we do come together, even if this marriage isn’t the easiest, leaving a lot to be desired.
Supporting him and his dreams is rough, looking perfect for him and those we have to please is rough, but because of him I am challenged, I am beautiful, I am loved. That counts for something, right?
His hands now trail down my sides, both searing and tickling at the same time, and then he reaches to his pocket and pulls something out, putting it in front of my eyes.
“Plane tickets?” I ask him, taking them in my hands and seeing the destination scrawled across them: Mykonos. “Really!” I squeal, turning around to face him, a genuine smile on my face for the first time in a while. It almost feels foreign as my cheeks pull, the muscles out of practice. I don’t even realize until now that I have been going through the motions the past few months, not totally defunct but mostly unhappy, unmoving, doing whatever he asks of me in hopes for the end we are both rooting for with him as DA. And then the reward of more money, more say in the world, and maybe more time together.
“Yes, we leave in three days, and then we will be back in time to get my results. This is why this is so important; it is my last bid to get these votes before I take you on the trip of your life.” A gleam flashes in his eye, and I feel relief boiling in my stone stomach. The end is coming, and he still wants me. This is all going to be worth it.
“I had no idea you had planned this.”
“What can I say?” he says with a wink before giving me a peck. “I am sneaky.”
I roll my eyes and feign annoyance even though this is the least annoying thing he has done in such a long time. Since we got married it has been all business with him. “Okay, I guess I can make an appearance tonight, then,” I say in a huff, and he slaps me on my ass, sending me towards the bedroom, but not before giving me some advice about exactly what I should look like tonight.
“Be sure to choose something that accentuates those assets I bought you.” He winks and points to my boobs, courtesy of his money. Not that I mind so much. Recovery was painful, but there was nothing there before. Can’t blame a guy for wanting something to grab onto, right? “And don’t forget the pearls,” he adds.
The pearls are a string of very expensive pearls he gifted me on our wedding night. I wear them all the time because they are a symbol, and even more so tonight not just because it is our anniversary but also because in this crazy world we have to live in, it looks good that I have a pretty thing around my neck that he bought me. He has told me so many times he doesn’t see it that way, but the truth is that the people voting and advocating for him left and right do see it that way. And that’s all that matters tonight, as much as I would rather be what matters. It is my job to make him look good and nothing more. So, even if I hate that I have to play a part or that he dictates how I dress and act, I know that this is what I must do to be a dutiful wife.
But once we’re on that island, I will be free. We both will. To be in each other’s arms, walk hand in hand on the beach in a bikini or nothing at all, spend my mornings waking up late to breakfast in bed and wearing sweatpants. It will make a night like tonight worth it just to make it to that moment.
I get ready in a hurry. I have perfected my look for these things now. The only hard part is moving in the dress; these things are always too tight and have embellishments that are worth more than the price of a kidney on the black market I am always afraid to lose. Sometimes in these moments right before I come out of the room to show myself off, I still feel like a fraud. I didn’t grow up with nothing, but I grew up much more normal and laid back than this. I don’t always feel like marriage puts me in league with all these other women I pretend to care for but really loathe.
That’s what friendship is in the rich political realm anyway; keeping enemies close.
When I come out, he is already waiting for me, his tux on and hair perfectly slicked back. His face gives away nothing about how I look to him or how he is feeling. He has already put on his own mask, ready to talk about saving the world one criminal behind bars at a time. I simply take his offered arm and follow him out to the car, a black Lincoln, that will be taking us to the party.
It is a long ride to the city, especially as we hit the traffic on the edge of town. I don’t try to make small talk with my husband in the car on the way and just sit in silence. I should be used to this, but something about this being our anniversary stirs something in me long dormant.
This is not normal.
I don’t like how distant we are. I remember when we used to go on dates and hold each other and have romps late into the night and early morning. Sure, every couple does lose that honeymoon phase at some point. But this feels like more than that loss.
I glance at him and see that he is adjusting his tie and checking his hair in the reflection of the window, and I wonder if he has sensed it too, or maybe he has just been so busy and focused on his career that he has no idea what I am feeling. And it isn’t like I have told him. I have just smiled and done as I have been asked. But maybe it is time that I say something.
Well, not tonight, but when we go on this trip. Maybe it will be like a second honeymoon for us.
I soothe myself with that thought as we finally pull to a stop and go inside the building, a restaurant that has been half bought out for this occasion. My heels make a clunking sound on the steps as we take it slow, making sure eyes hit us on the way in. I am grateful for it because even after all this time I am not good with these heels. They make me half a foot taller. Though, I am still shorter than Noah; just the right size he says.
We are greeted on the way in by so many, shaking hands, nodding heads, talking about elections, the stock market, whatever brand of champagne is the best.
