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Tired of being on edge, I’ve transferred Leia’s bottle warmer to her room, which means I can feed her in there without worrying I’m going to bump into him.
I’m sure eventually we’ll be able to coexist in this house without feeling we have to avoid one another. But right now, I’m so angry and hurt, I can’t bear to be in his presence.
The worst thing is that I know I’m being ridiculous. Whilst his proposal was bizarre, and an incredibly long commitment, a million dollars is a huge amount of money. It’s very generous. So is it odd that I wish he’d not offered it? That he’d just asked me to do it as a friend? I would still have hesitated, but I wouldn’t have felt so insulted. So cheap.
But I need the money, so I’ll have to get over my indignation. Just not today. I need time to calm down.
“Let’s get some breakfast,” I say to Leia, and I put her in her seat, clip her in, and give her a toy to play with, then start making myself some toast.
It’s only when I turn to put a plate on the counter that I discover a letter, typed and printed, sitting on the counter, with a credit card on the top. I pick it up and read it.
When I’m done, I sink onto a barstool, my hand covering my mouth.
He thinks I’m upset because he’s trivialized marriage, boiled it down to a legal contract. And that is partly why I was upset. So his apology means a lot to me. I am sorry if I hurt your feelings or insulted you though. That was never my intention, and I hope you can forgive me. My throat tightens. I’m glad he realized I was upset, even if he doesn’t understand the whole reason why.
I’ll open the account and get you a debit card for it once you’re Mrs. Rutherford. Oh God. I’ll be Mrs. Rutherford. I get a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. It doesn’t matter that it’s in name only—we’re really getting married. Will we both wear a ring? I imagine he’d want that, if he’s intending to project the image that it’s a love match.
I’ve done my best not to think about it since our conversation, but now I let myself imagine the moment where he slides a ring onto my finger, and he promises to love me and be faithful to me for the rest of our days. My face heats. How can I pretend it doesn’t mean anything to me? That the words are empty?
But I must. He’s right—they’re just words. If there’s no love behind them, of course they’re meaningless.
I read the rest of the note. He’s having a car delivered. A new Range Rover. If you’d rather have a driver, I can arrange that. Dear God. What would the poor man do all day while he waited for me to go out? I couldn’t possibly deal with that.
I can go into town and buy anything I want with his card. Some clothes or jewelry. I laugh out loud. Clearly, he doesn’t know me at all. I’d never spend any of his money on myself. The million dollars is one thing—I’ll take that to make a better life for my family. But I won’t be spending it on myself.
Jeez, I’m so dumb. What’s the point in having principles? Why not take everything he offers and run? Cars and clothes and flashy diamonds? I’ll never get a chance to live like this again.
It’s a job, that’s all—a very well-paid job. It’s not demeaning. I’m not selling myself. I’m helping him keep Leia out of that awful couple’s hands. I look down at her, sitting in her seat, laughing at the toy in her hands, and feel a swell of affection for her. I’m doing it for my parents, and for her. To make sure she has a wonderful start to life. I’ve seen James hold her, and I know he’ll make a good father. It’ll take time, but she’ll win him over, and eventually he’ll treat her like his own. She’ll have a much better life here with him than she would with Blue and Jasmine. That’s why I’m doing this.
I feel better after that. He’s apologized for trivializing marriage, and that means a lot to me. I can’t change how he feels about it, only my own reaction. I still don’t like the idea of lying to people about why we’re getting married, but I can do it, for Leia.
I pick up the credit card. He’s stuck a Post-it Note to it with his pin number. I study it for a moment, then, frowning, I take out my phone and Google Ernest Rutherford. I laugh as I read his Wikipedia page. James’s pin number is the year Ernest was born—1871.
Feel free to use it to buy anything you or Leia need… Would you prefer to get her another bassinet, or new equipment? What about clothes and toys? Why not treat yourself to some clothes or jewelry today.
I feel a surge of rebelliousness. Maybe I will. There are a few things I’d like for Leia. Perhaps after the car is delivered, I’ll go into town and do some shopping.
Excited at the thought, I butter my toast, make a coffee, then take it and Leia out onto the deck. I’ve just put her on her playmat and started eating when my phone rings. It’s Gaby.
Immediately, I feel nervous. I can keep this secret from everyone else—my other friends and my family—but Gaby knows me better than anyone.
I answer the phone, trying to sound bright and cheerful. “Hello?”
“Hey, you,” she says. “Thought I’d catch you before my lessons started. What’s up?”
“Not a lot. I thought I might take Leia shopping. There are a few things she needs, and… um… James said I can buy whatever I want for her, so…” I trail off.
“So… How are things in the Rutherford household? Are you carving out a role for yourself there?” She sounds amused.
On the surface, it’s an innocent question. I’ve been texting her, letting her know what’s been happening with the situation, so she knows about our meeting with Blue and Jasmine. I told her that James has decided to keep Leia. So it makes sense that she’s asking whether I’ll continue to be Leia’s nanny.
But I know her better than that. “Don’t start,” I say wryly.
“Aw, come on. Tyson’s texted to say they’re in their morning meeting, and he asked James how you were getting on, and James said… hold on, I’ll read it out… ‘She’s spectacular. Best thing that ever happened to me.’”
My face turns into a furnace. “Oh, um, that’s nice.” Of course he’s just laying the groundwork for next week, but even so…
“Spectacular?”
