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“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” He nodded toward my phone. “Everything good with the work call?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I said, waving this away. “Just some minor things, but I didn’t want my assistant thinking I didn’t care. Gotta appease the work wife, you know.”
Harold laughed. “I hear that.”
“Yeah. Though sometimes, I have to remind her that we’re not married for real, that she’s doing too much and needs to chill.” I laughed. “Anyway, tell your mom I’ll stop by sometime next week. Ciara and I are putting off our honeymoon for a while, so I’m around.”
“Aight, I’ll let her know.” We bumped fists, and Harold gave me a two-fingered salute. “Later.”
When he left, I went back to the table, assuming Ciara would still be there. But when I got there, she wasn’t. I frowned.I wasn’t gone that long, was I?
Shrugging, I waited at the table, stopping the servers to pick up more hors d’oeuvres. Ciara knew where I was; she’d come back.
CIARA
Hearing Nathan talk about his “work wife” the way he did was like a punch to the gut. I knew he wasn’t talking about me…but I still felt a way about it.
The foundation of our relationship was a farce. We were only supposed to meet each other’s needs at that moment. For me, that meant someone who could help me pay for school. For Nathan, that meant a fake wife. And while it was true that we had fallen in love—though maybe he doesn’t even really feel that way,I thought, my heart sinking—maybe, down the line, Nathan would start to feel the same way about me that he felt about his assistant: that we weren’t married for real. That I was doing too much and needed to chill.
I knew we moved too fast,I thought.
But we were already married; I couldn’t leave him now. I had to follow through on my end of the bargain. So I did what was the next best thing: I confirmed my acceptance to the animation program.
Pulling out my phone, I scrolled to the email that was also sent to congratulate me on my acceptance. I followed the instructions on how to claim my spot in the program, putting in my bank information for the deposit. And I clicked confirm.
When I had toiled over the decision, it seemed like it was going to be a bigger deal, that I would feel relief once I finally chose to either stay or go. But I didn’t feel any such relief. Instead, I felt sick.
I rushed to the bathroom, bypassing Mack and Sara, and hurried into a stall. I just barely made it to the toilet before all of what I’d eaten over the last few hours came back for a reappearance. I sat heaving over the toilet for a bit, staying even when there was nothing left. I felt empty, and it wasn’t just the lack of food.
After standing up and flushing the toilet, I stood over the sink to wash my hands. I looked at myself in the mirror, a pang of sadness and grief overtaking me at what I saw. Brooklyn had been right; Ihadchanged for Nathan. It was easier to shrink myself to fit what I thought he’d want than to be the person I already was. And where did that leave me? It left me with a husband who probably didn’t really love me—it was probably just infatuation—and a hole in my heart.
And a marriage contract I couldn’t get out of.
With a sigh, I rinsed my mouth as best as I could without disturbing my makeup, squared my shoulders, and looked at myself in the mirror one more time. Unfortunately, Natasha, Zeke’s wife, came into the bathroom before I could leave.
She eyed me with disdain as she made her way to the bank of sinks and mirrors. “Hey.”
“Hi,” I said, unsure of how to get out of the bathroom without being rude. I was distinctly aware of the taste of bile, and I was itching to find a mint somewhere. “Thanks for coming to the rehearsal dinner. I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Sure, thanks.” She pulled out her lipstick, dotting it on her pursed lips. “It works…for now.”
I frowned, confused by what she said. “What?”
She shrugged, capping the tube and putting it back in her purse. “It’s obvious you’re…new to this. To wealth.” She ran her gaze up and down my outfit as if assessing it. “You’d have thought that Nathan would have chosen differently.”
“Excuse me?” I reared back. “Nathan and I are in love—”
She waved this away, rolling her eyes. “Sure, whatever. But love won’t be enough. You don’t fit in this world, in his world. I give it a few months, tops, before he drops you.”
I blinked to stop the tears from coming down my face. Though Nathan and I had agreed to do just that in the beginning, it hurt to hear it from someone who had no knowledge of our arrangement.
Seemingly unaware of the effect her words had on me, she shrugged. “If I were you, I’d milk it for all it’s worth, then divorce him,” she said. “Save yourself the years of hope and just forget whatever fairy-tale notions you had of being married to a Hemingway. Stop trying to be a square peg fitting into a round hole, and just know your place.” Her eyes darkened, and surprisingly, she seemed sad. “Being in this family is not all it’s cracked up to be.”
I backed away, toward the door, to get away from Natasha and her words. “Thanks for the, um, advice,” I said. “But I think I’m good with Nathan. Have a good night.”
With that, I turned and hurried out of the bathroom. Unfortunately, I bumped into Brooklyn on my way out.
