The Marriage Contract (10 page)

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Authors: Tara Ahmed

BOOK: The Marriage Contract
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              His face softened, as he stood to his full height, stroking his brown locks back. He shook his head, and there was that easy smile again. I wasn’t sure if it was a fake smile, because only seconds ago he looked ready to pull my head off.

              I decided I didn’t care. He made it clear that I didn’t matter to him, and everything between us was only a business deal. But, for some reason, a small, tiny boat in my heart- sank.

              Why was I hurt?

              He pinched my cheek, and I stepped back, shaking it off.

              “Partners,” he smiled widely. “I like the sound of that.”

              He was cheerful once more, and I had to wonder if he suffered from some type of bi polar disorder, or maybe his happiness was some kind of defense mechanism. As we walked towards the tall, blue door of the mansion, I found myself smiling. A part of me was glad that he had broken off his happy mold, and shown me a side to him that I didn’t know existed. He reminded me of a ripe onion, wrapped in a hundred quilts, and I wondered what other layer I would accidentally peel off.

              Just as he was about to press the doorbell, a loud engine roared behind us, causing us to turn, facing to a strange noise.

              Dressed in a black leather riding gear, a pear shaped woman, whose face was shielded by a blue helmet, spun her motorcycle around, before stopping it. Swinging her legs off the bike, she parked it against the side of a metal railing. My eyes bulged when she took off the helmet, revealing a set of full grey hair, and aged, wrinkled skin. Her blue eyes shined against the evening sky, as she placed the helmet on the seat of the bike, turning her attention towards us.

              “You’re early!” She had the same happy go lucky voice that James always used, as she ran towards us.

              Her gaze was locked on James, as she reached him, swinging both arms over his neck, giving him a tight hug. James looked a bit annoyed, as though he were embarrassed that she was hugging him in front of me.

              I grinned.

              Then I frowned because I began to find his annoyance towards his Grandmother, adorable. It was just something about the way his brows furrowed together- his lips, in a small pout, as he glanced at me, looking a bit horrified.

              “Granny, please,” he mumbled. “We’ve got a guest—“

              “Oh, stop it!” said Gweneth. “You haven’t seen me in over two months! I’m allowed to hug my Grandson. Wait, what’s that you said? A guest? Where?”

              They pulled apart, as James placed both hands on Gweneth’s shoulder, slowly turning her towards me. He brought his hands back to his side, rolling his eyes, and looking exhausted.

              Gweneth looked at me for a moment- then took a step towards me, pressing a finger against my cheek, as though testing whether I’m real or not. I gave her a look, raising my brow, and taking a step back.

              But then I remembered I was supposed to be a good bride, so reluctantly, I smiled. I really had nothing to smile about, and the Grandmother was making me uncomfortable by staring me up and down with an overly happy gaze.

              “So nice to meet you, Mrs. Bellevue,” I said, trying to sound friendly. “James has told me a lot about you.”

              She cocked her head to side, and took a step back, her brows raised.

              “And what did he say?” she asked.

              There was a challenge in her tone, and I could tell she was expecting me to fluster, and admit that I had just told a lie, because James had not told me much of anything about her. Except that—

              “You love carrots,” I answered, smiling again. “I do too. In fact, if you could open a carrot factory, I’ll bet every dollar I own, that you would—“

              She cackled, walked towards me, and gave me a hard slap to the shoulder. It stung like hell, but I ignored the pain, and continued to smile a sugary smile.

              My cheeks began to ache.

              “You’re a cute one,” she said, giving my arm another hard slap. “Come on then, let’s get on inside! I’m so sorry I didn’t see you earlier, dear. I was too focused on my awful Grandson, who never visits his poor old Granny—“

              James groaned. “Could you stop? I’m here now, aren’t I?”

              James was a real brat, and I laughed, finding it strange that a twenty eight year old guy could act like such a baby.

              He shot me a glare, to which I stuck out my tongue, sending him a short wink. He looked taken aback, and after a second, I realized what I had done. My honest smile, was replaced once more, with the fake one, as Gweneth hooked her arm around mine, ringing the doorbell.

              Why did I wink at him?

              I shivered.

              “You cold, dear?” Gweneth asked.

              A man, dressed in a butler’s uniform, opened the door, and bowed his head as we entered. James gave me a confused look, as I diverted my gaze from his. He shook his head, looking annoyed for some reason, and walked on.

              What was up with him?

              Gweneth poked my cheek again, and I shook, startled.

              “Yeah?” I asked.

              She laughed. “Goodness! You’re a nervous wreck aren’t you, dear? I asked if you’re cold!”

              I shook my head. “I’m good, Mrs. Bellevue. Thanks for asking.”

              Gweneth and I strode through the long, wide, brightly lit hallway, as still life portraits of fruits, lined the white wall. The butler walked ahead, passing James, who stood at the end of the hall, before a tall, ornately decorated silver door.

              James glared at the door, as though he held a grudge against it. When we approached him, the glare was replaced with a smile, as he turned towards me, slipping me away from Gweneth. Her arm slinked out of mine, as James wrapped a thick, muscular arm around my waist, pulling me close.

              I exhaled deeply at the contact, and he shot me a look. My cheeks burned.

              “Alright then, children,” said Gweneth. “I guess I’ll do the introductions.”

              She walked around us, turning the knob, as I held my breath. His arm dropped from my waist, as our hands brushed against each other. Unknowingly, my hand squeezed against his, and though I knew he was giving me a questioning stare, I didn’t care. He was the only person I knew in this house full of strangers that I was about to lie to, and I needed a hand to hold.

              My heart thundered, as James and I walked through the door. The room was like the entrance to a five star hotel, as a tall, crystal chandelier hung off the high ceiling, appearing like a cluster of stars. Four couches rested at the center of the room, covered in a rich, cream carpet. At both sides of the wide room, were ten foot high windows, graced in silk blue curtains. Everything in the place was so white, as if someone in the room had a fetish over the color. The couches were white, so was the coffee table at the center, and so was the dining table at the end of the room.

              And as my eyes landed on the group of people sitting on the milky couch, I realized who most likely had the white color fetish.

              A tall, voluptuous woman, who I took to be Rosaline, sat at a love seat, her long, tan legs, crossed. Her knee length, sleeveless white dress, flattered her long arms that rested primly on her knees, as she gave me a placid stare. She had auburn hair, the kind which appeared almost red, matching the shade of her thin lips. There was this sweetness to her face, for she appeared to bear no walls.

              On the long couch next to hers, sat a teenage girl, who I guessed was Bethany Rogers. Her hair was the same auburn shade of her mother’s, as she sat with her legs crossed at the ankles, dressed in black skinny jeans and a metallic green top. She was too focused on her phone to notice me. Beside her, was a black haired, curly headed guy, who looked to be about my age. He sat in a loose brown t-shirt, and blue jeans that were ripped slightly at the knees. His focus was on a book, which he read on his lap, bowing his head. Opposite him, on another couch, was George Bellevue, James’s grandfather. He had colored his grey hair, black, and was focused on reading a newspaper, dressed in a navy dress shirt and black trousers. The final person on my radar, sat at another couch next to the grandfather. He looked so much like James, except his eyes were more solemn than bright. He sat, dressed in a black polo top, with brown khaki pants, yawning, and staring contentedly out the window. He looked bored.

              Though they were a family, everyone was in their own world, ignoring each other’s presence. Not a single word was spoken between them, and I wondered if this was their norm. It was as though they were strangers living under one roof.

              “Look up here, you fools,” Gweneth barked. “James brought a pretty little thing here, just for us. Now have some manners, and give her some attention!”

              I flicked a nervous glance at James, who had his poker face set, staring blankly at his family. My palm felt sticky against his, but it gave me a sort of silent comfort, because I knew that if I was going down, I was taking him with me. We were both in this mess.

              All eyes turned to me, and it took every amount of energy I had in me, to smile.

              “Hi,” I said.

              My voice was an echo against the silent cave of the room, as they all stood from their seat, staring at me.

              Wait. There was someone missing. My eyes scanned them once more, before I realized that Richard wasn’t here.

 

              “So how did you two meet?” Edmund, James’s father asked.

              We sat at the dining room table, as the butlers went around, serving us dinner. Everyone’s eyes were on me.

              “Well,” I began. “Um…you see—“

              “She’s a bit flustered at the moment,” said James. “But to make a long story short, it was love at first sight for me. She was a maid at our hotel, and we met a few months ago, and not on the friendliest note. I threw a bunch of money at her, and looked down on her poor status. You know the funny thing? She took the money, and that intrigued me. She didn’t let my bait get to her, and as the days went by, I kept asking her out, and she kept rejecting. Finally, she did accept, and fell for me. I didn’t want to make a big deal with a fancy wedding, and she didn’t want that either, so we just decided to have a simple wedding, with only each other. That’s about it. So what do you guys think of her?”

              Edmund gave me a stiff smile.

              “I do remember Rosaline and I telling you to get married soon, but eloping was never on our mind, son—“

              “That matters not,” said the Grandfather. “I’m just glad you finally settled down. The young lady looks fine to me, and I’m pleased that she’s not one of your usual pass time skanks—“

              “George!” Gweneth scolded. “Mind your tongue!—“

              “So you were a maid?” the teenage girl asked.

              What was her name again? Britany?...Bertha?

              I nodded. “Yes.”

              She scoffed, rolling her pretty grey eyes.

              “So my brother is marrying a maid?” she questioned, snorting. “That’s rich. That’s real rich. No wait…that’s poor!”

              I didn’t mind her words. She was right. I was poor. So what? It’s as if she thought that stating a fact would insult me.

              Taking a bite of the steak from my plate, I swallowed, before sipping the sparkling water on the champagne glass.

              James’s stepmother sent me an apologetic glance, her rosy cheeks reddening from her daughter’s rude outburst.

              “Oh, I’m so sorry, Dorothy,” said Rosaline. “Our Bethany here is just a little shocked by this…incident. We’ve never met anyone who’s eloped, and to find out that my own son has gone off and married a girl without even telling us, is heart breaking. Surely, you can understand what we’re all going through. This is just so sudden.”

              Bethany! So that was her name.

              “I understand,” I said. “I didn’t mean to impose on everyone—“

              “Nonsense,” said Grandfather George. “You didn’t do anything. It’s James that decided to humiliate us all through this surprise marriage. Everything to him is a joke—“

              “I’m right here,” James snapped. “And what I did has nothing to do with you, or anyone! I love Dorothy, and she loves me, and that’s all that matters. If you can’t accept us, then just tell me now, and we’ll move to some Island, away from all of you for good!”

              A cold silence crept through the room, and the only noise was the sound of my fork and knife crashing into the steak, slicing it. I glanced at my plate, taking another bite, knowing that James and I were about to get kicked out the house.

              He was pushing his Grandfather’s buttons, which would cause this whole plan to come crashing down. I knew, I just knew that everything he planned- was now over. He and I would divorce, since the family would never accept me, which would cause James to take back the shelter donation.

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