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“No, and don’t get snarky. She recommended a shop, that’s all. I chose the dress.”
I swallowed down my response.
“Don’t spoil the mood, Amber. It’s a beautiful dress and fits you perfectly.”
I nodded and raised up to kiss him. “I’m sorry. I love the dress and thank you.”
“That’s better. Now get it off and let me see you in just those shoes.”
As our relationship had grown, so had his sexual kinks. Andrew had started to prefer anal sex, something I hated. He liked tofuck me,as he called it. Gone were the days when we’d make love, and he made an effort to give me an orgasm. His selfishness had returned to the bedroom. If I complained, he got angry. He’d call me selfish for not wanting to satisfy him, especially after all the hours he put in at work to give us a lavish lifestyle. He told me I should be more than willing to do whatever he wanted in gratitude.
“I’ve got my period,” I lied.
“Urgh, then I guess I’ll have to pleasure myself,” he said. “Or you can suck my cock. Think of it as a thank you for the dress.” He laughed as if he’d said the funniest thing.
Of course, I complied, it just wasn’t worth the argument that would follow if I didn’t.
* * *
I hadmy hair done and nails painted for the celebration dinner. Even though I said it myself, I thought I looked nice.
“I think you should change that handbag. You took that one last time,” Andrew said.
“Oh, okay, I thought this went better with the dress.”
“You took that last time,” he said, sterner.
Andrew had a thing about showing off his wealth. I wasn’t to wear the same dress twice, but to have to change handbags was bordering on the ridiculous. It was just a handbag. But it wasn’t worth the argument.
“Is this one better?” I said, holding up a cream clutch.
“Much. You know how I don’t want you to look like you’ve only got the one thing,” he replied, doing up his cuff links.
He wore the same coloured suit every day of the week, the same brand but a different colour when we went out. He had five pairs of the exact same shoes, seven of the exact same tie, so I just didn’t get this logic.
Andrew had ordered a chauffeur to drive us. Gone were the days we’d ring the local cab company. He was waiting on a new car he’d ordered, a top of the range Mercedes. Neither of us drove much, we didn’t need to where we lived, and it would sit in the underground car park most of the time, but it was a status symbol for him.
“Oh, I also contacted an estate agent about leaving the apartment. I think it’s time to move. This is getting too small for us now.”
I nodded. The apartment was perfectly suitable for the two of us, but I had a secret that I had yet to share and perhaps, a larger property might be better.
“Tod just moved to a gated community in Sevenoaks, it’s an easy commute into London so I think we should look there.”
He finally looked up and cocked his head to one side. “You look stunning,” he said.
“Thank you.”
We were driven, mostly in silence, to the country club where the reception was being held. Andrew was on a fast track to becoming a Partner and I knew how important that was to him. He was feted by his peers, existing Partners, and the juniors under his control. And he loved it.
For Andrew, he had to be needed, to be wanted. He had to be better than anyone else, have more. It was important that he wore his wealth, as did I. I was just as happy in a pair of charity shop jeans, but not him. I’d pretended the charity shop jeans were the new shabby chic look that everyone was talking about. He fell for that.
Although Andrew earned extremely well, he kept control of the finances. I still had my job in the builders but had gone part time. Andrew didn’t think I had enough time to dedicate to the house and him if I worked full time.
The problem I had was that I never had enough money. Everything had to be accounted for. I kept a household budget that he’d go through on a monthly basis, putting enough money into the house account to cover all the bills. Sure, I had nice clothes. But I didn’t want nice clothes. I wanted to be able to walk to a coffee shop, sit and people watch while sipping on a latte. I wanted to head to a bookstore and fill my shelves with romance books—something Andrew hated with a passion.
To outsiders, we had the absolute best of everything. It was stifling. And it was suffocating. I longed for a little freedom, to breathe clean air, and wear what I wanted.
I put on the fake smile I’d become so great at, and took hold of his hand.
