Living with Davis is strange.
I don’t know how to approach anything. None of this stuff is mine, and yet I live here. He’s my husband, and yet he’s not really.
Not to mention I still hate him. And I’m far from trusting him.
That moment in the kitchen was just a lapse. I baited him into it, practically. I knew what I was doing, wearing that dress, cooking breakfast for him. I was trying to test him, trying to mess with him.
Really, that backfired on me hard.
He leaves the house maybe a half hour after that little thing in the kitchen, whatever it was. I don’t ask where he’s going, and he doesn’t offer.
I do get changed, though. I put on sweats and boring underwear.
Because screw him.
As I sit in front of the TV, I can feel myself buzzing still. That orgasm was amazing, I mean, one of the best orgasms of my entire freaking life. I’ve been with other guys of course, and they’ve even gotten me off a few times, but never, ever, ever like that.
Never with such confidence. Never with such intensity.
The way he looked at me, made me taste myself…
He was controlling. He was teasing.
And it was amazing.
I try not to think about my husband. My fake asshole husband that I hate. The guy that hooked up with my best friend years ago and bragged about it to me, even though he knew that I was in love with him.
The guy that broke my heart. And now he’s back to do it again.
I sigh, shaking my head, trying to dispel the worry and regret.
I’m here and this is happening. After a bit, we’ll get divorced, and I’ll get paid.
Easy, no problem.
It’s almost like I can start to believe my own bullshit as the day slowly slips past.
I lose myself in more reality TV, trying not to think.
I check the clock and it’s nearly noon when my phone starts to ring. I feel like a coma patient coming back to the world.
I answer it. “Hello?”
“Sweetie, did you get married?”
I blink, surprised.
It’s my mom.
“Mom, hey,” I say.
“I just read this thing online about you. My friend Jeannie sent it to me, and it says you married some rich guy named Davis? In his office? And your ring is worth a million dollars?”
“Half a million,” I correct her.
There’s silence on the other end.
“Mom, I’m sorry,” I say. “It all happened so fast.”
“So fast that you got married without telling me?”
I can hear the hurt in her voice, and it almost breaks me. I almost tell her the truth, spill it all, admit everything.
But then I remember I can’t. If I want this to work… it has to stay a secret.
Otherwise, no money. Nothing.
“I’m sorry,” I say stupidly.
She clears her throat. “Well. Okay. Is he nice?”
“Yes,” I lie. “He’s very nice. You’d like him.”
“Your father and I want to meet him.”
I bite my lip. “Where is dad?”
“He’s… out,” she says.
“Right. Of course he is.” I push the anger down. For once, I deserve my father’s silence.
I have a complicated relationship with Richard Miller. We were close when I was younger, but as I got older and my interests diverged from his own, he started to… resent me.
Strangely, impossibly. When I skipped college to go into acting, he was angry as hell. Yelled, screamed, threatened. My mother’s the only thing that kept him from really going over the line.
They supported me for two years out in LA but I knew that wouldn’t last. He cut me off without warning, and hasn’t talked to me much since.
I don’t hate him. I feel like I understand why he did it. I just wish he had been kinder to me.
I just wish…
Well.
It doesn’t matter.
What’s past is past.
This marriage isn’t going to fix my dead relationship with my father. I can accept that.
I just hope it doesn’t hurt my relationship with my mom.
Mom sighs. “Listen, honey. He saw the article too and he wasn’t…”
“He was disappointed. I know. I’m used to it.”
Another short silence. “Honey, you have to understand. We’re a little confused. This happened so fast. You never even mentioned this guy.”
I bite my lip. “We’ve known each other a long time. It happened fast but… it’s good.”
“Are you happy?” she asks.
“I am,” I say softly.
“Okay,” she says. “I won’t pretend like I understand or approve, but what’s done is done.”
“Thanks,” I say. That’s about as close to my mother congratulating me as I’ll ever get.
“We’d like to meet him,” she says.
“We?”
“Your father, too.”
“Really?”
Short silence. I can hear her say something to someone nearby. “Yes, he does,” she says into the receiver. “When can we do it?”
“Soon, I promise.”
“Okay, good. I’ll call you again soon.”
“Thanks, mom. I love you.”
“Love you too, honey.”
She hangs up the phone. Guilt threatens to crash over me.
I sit there and stare at the TV. I don’t know what to think, but right now, my whole mind is a mess.
My parents know about this. It’s real, and my mother… she’s disappointed. And my father wants to meet him, or at least my mother is going to force him to…
The phone starts ringing again. I figure it’s Mom calling back with something she forgot to say.
I answer it right away. “Hello?”
“Hello, Carly.”
I bite my lip almost instinctively. “What do you want?”
Davis chuckles softly. “That’s not how you greet your husband.”
I put a fake smile on my face. “Hey, sweetie pie,” I say, sweet as syrup.
He laughs again. “That’s good. Listen, you need to come to the office.”
I frown. “What for? I thought we were on our honeymoon.”
“It’s delayed,” he says. “I need you here. A car’s on the way. Get dressed.”
I clench my jaw. “Is this how it’s gonna be, you just ordering me around all the time?”
“More or less.”
I clench my jaw. “My mom just called me,” I say, changing the subject abruptly.
He hesitates. “I’m not surprised.”
“She was surprised. There’s some article about us? She knows details, Davis.”
“Of course she does. We put out a press release along with some preliminary photos.”
I stare at the wall for a second, digesting this. “And you didn’t warn me?” I say softly.
“It’s all part of the deal,” he says.
“My parents know. And they’re upset.”
He hesitates again. This time, his voice is softer. Almost… apologetic.
“What did you think would happen, Carly?”
“I don’t know!” I explode. “I thought I could tell them before they found out on their own.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you wanted that.”
“You never asked.”
He sighs. “I can’t read your mind.”
I grind my teeth for a second. “Fine. Okay. Whatever. They want to meet you.”
“Fine,” he says. “We’ll make that happen. Actually, that’s good. It’ll add more realism to all this.”
“It’s all about you, isn’t it?” I say softly. “Do you even care how this is affecting me?”
“No,” he says. “You had a choice. You chose money and this deal. The car’s on the way.”
“You asshole. You’ve always been a selfish prick.”
“Get dressed,” he says, sounding tired. “I’ll see you soon.”
He hangs up the phone before I can yell at him some more.
I sit there, seething with rage.
He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He only thinks about what’s best for this situation, for getting through this and getting what he wants. That’s the only thing he ever thinks about.
He doesn’t give a shit about me.
I’m just a means to an end.
I stand up, almost shaking with rage.
But… he’s right about something.
I chose this.
I didn’t have to sign those papers. I didn’t have to take his deal.
I didn’t have to kiss him. I didn’t have to let him get me off…
His fingers graze my skin again. I shut my eyes and will them away.
I open my eyes again and take in the unfamiliar house.
He’s right. I chose this.
That doesn’t mean he has to be a dick about it.
Slowly, I start to move. I head upstairs. I get dressed.
I play the game because that’s the game I chose to play.
When the car comes, I get inside without a word, and it whisks me away.