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“What kind of archaic marriage agreement is this?” Jessie snapped. It was an argument I had heard since the moment I told her about this deal. “You’re a grown woman in the twenty-first century. Your parents don’t get to choose who you marry!” “They do if she wants her inheritance,”
examined her nails. “Maybe instead of turning
“I’ll be okay. It’s just for five years.” “Five years is a long time.” “Freedom is longer,” I added. Maybe if I said it enough, I’d start believing it too.
He was a stern man. He didn’t really smile much, and I had a feeling he didn’t like me. But he was about to be my husband.
Sebastian was attractive, that much was for sure.
But Sebastian wasn’t smiling at our wedding. His jaw was tight, and he looked through me rather than at me. When I met him at the end of the aisle, I saw a flash of something I’d never seen before in his expression. I saw fear.
“Sebastian William Miller,” the preacher said, bringing me out of my thoughts, “do you accept this woman to be your wife? Do you promise to hold her, and comfort her in sickness and in health throughout the rest of your life?” There was a pause. A moment where I hoped he would say “No, I don’t.” “I do,” Sebastian said.
“Then, under the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife.” We kissed, close-lipped and our bodies apart. People I didn’t know cheered for us, and my life was sealed for the next five years.
It was a sham marriage, sure, but still a real one. I had been barred from seeing anyone during the next five years, and I wasn’t about to risk it—not when I had signed my life away. No. I was seeing this through to the end. But I had read Sebastian’s contract when I snuck into Martin’s office late one night. He didn’t have any limitations like I did. And I knew eventually he would look for an out. It was just something I would have to accept.
“You looked good,” he said. “Beautiful.”
“You looked good too. You have really nice hair. About half of my Instagram comments are about how hot you are.” Sebastian looked back at his laptop, any hint of interest gone. “Thanks.” Had I done something wrong? I was supposed to talk about my social media. That was my whole life. He married me knowing that. But for the shortest of seconds, I wondered if I should try being myself.
Would he be into that? No, my mother’s voice insisted. You are your looks, and nothing else. Anything not related to that is a waste of time. No one cares.
I needed to keep my rich, spoiled persona turned on. It was what my parents had marketed me as and was the only reason I had gotten this marriage. Sebastian didn’t want a wife who talked about Game of Thrones or got buried in a stack of books. He wanted a wife who was pretty, perfect, and could benefit Miller Industries.
“Cover those freckles, Lily,” my mom said. “Men don’t like imperfections.”
Sebastian glanced up, and his eyes lingered for half a second longer than usual, then he was back to his laptop. I felt dejected. I looked exactly how I was supposed to. My dyed blonde hair was sitting on my shoulders in a way I thought was enticing. My silk pajamas were the epitome of sexy. This should have worked.
When I saw my beautifully made-up face in the mirror, I swallowed back a bite of anger. I had done it all right. Why hadn’t he been interested?
I slammed the bathroom door when I came out, and finally Sebastian looked up. His mouth opened, but no words came out. His cheeks darkened and I could have sworn his eyes did too. But just as quickly as I saw it, it was gone.
“I know that, but seriously, I’m supposed to be his type. He’s supposed to look at me right? Like we’re supposed to have something—” “Lily, this isn’t love,” Jessie said simply. “It’s just convenience.” “But—” “Lily, you were forced to marry him. Why does it matter to you if he looks at you?” Because this was what I was supposed to be. I was doing everything my mother said to do. Men were supposed to care.
“have you ever considered that he already had someone before you?” Oh. Oh no. My heart sank and my throat closed. “I . . . I guess I should have,” I said, my voice soft.
I was so entranced by the music that I totally missed Sebastian. While checking on my beach bag, I saw him staring at me from nearby. His gaze was so intense that I froze for a moment, wondering what I had done wrong.
That was when it hit me. He liked what he saw. In an instant, I felt a little more powerful. He had ignored me since we’d been here, but this wasn’t him ignoring me. He was looking at me dead on.
“Come back to the room.” My heart raced under his attention. All thought flew out the window because Sebastian was looking at me with darkened, interested eyes. And that was all I needed.
I knew he didn’t really like me, but he was attracted to me, and for some, that was practically the same thing. This was all I could ask for.
He was a fantastic kisser apparently.
“What do you like?” he asked. I blinked up at him, not really understanding the question. “What?” “With sex. What do you like?” I sat there, unsure of what to say. Finally, I settled on, “It doesn’t matter that much. I just want you to feel good.” Sebastian’s expression was almost betrayed.
But then he shook his head and said, “No.” “No?” “It’s not just about me. I don’t want that.”
“Fuck, Lily. You’re so beautiful.
Never had I felt this relaxed in sex. Never had I enjoyed it this much.
In that moment, I wanted to open up and tell him everything—how no one had been like that before, how I wished we could talk more, and how much I wanted us to work.
“That couch was not comfortable.” “There’s a spot next to me,” I said, smiling up at him. It was a genuine smile, and I found myself hoping he would take me up on my offer. He nodded, and I felt like I’d won the lottery.
“No cuddles after that?” I asked in a coy voice. Sebastian looked at me, but his eyes were distant, like they were at the wedding. Slowly, however, he nodded and lifted an arm. I tucked myself into him, enjoying his warmth and solid body. But I couldn’t get his expression out of my head.
As I dozed off, my head pillowed on his chest, I wondered what he would think of the real me. Would he like the nerdy, poetic, bookworm version? I dreamed he did. And then when I woke up, I was alone.
He walked to the balcony, and I heard the beginning of his conversation. “Hey, Heather,” he said, his voice soft, “did I miss something important?” For a second, I didn’t understand what I’d just heard. Then it hit me. Oh God. Jessie was right. He did have someone.
Why did I sleep with him? Why didn’t I listen to Jessie? Why did I go through with this? I heard the balcony door shut and I straightened up. He didn’t need to know I was upset. It was as my mother said: ladies showed their emotions in private.
I flipped over to my word processor. I had to get this pain out somehow, and the fanfics I’d been writing weren’t enough. No, I needed my own story, one that I created from scratch. I started typing. Hours later, I had a chapter and a Band-Aid over my heart.
My haven was the coffee shop on the north side of Los Angeles, the one with the flowers growing out of the walls and only a select few tables. Jessie and I met there every Monday. It had been hit or miss lately since she had been working on her dissertation, but I still came by the shop dutifully on Mondays.
A lot had changed in four years, including my situation. Gone was the girl who had no opportunities and didn’t know what to do. If my dad kept my inheritance, it wouldn’t break me.
Making a career under a pen name wasn’t my plan, but it had saved me in a way. I’d always written, but something changed after the honeymoon, and my misery crafted a story so bold and dark that I’d gotten a book deal off it, and now a TV show. I’d declined all interviews to stay anonymous, but it seemed to only fuel people’s interest in the series despite no one knowing who the author was.
The vacations Sebastian and I took weren’t vacations. Sebastian stayed locked in meetings all day, while I staged perfect Instagram shots to keep up the farce that we were madly in love. Then, we’d take loving photos at sunset and sleep in opposite rooms from each other. We used to sleep in the same room, but I couldn’t manage it when he would come home at ten every single night. My heart told me he was with someone else. I made an excuse that I slept better on my own.
“There is one thing they might ask,” I said, the knot in my stomach returning. “What?” Jessie asked. “Nude photos?” “A child.”
“They can’t do that. You’d say no, right?” “Of course I would.” And I meant it. My own family hadn’t been loving. My mom was distant and image focused. My dad was always at work. The idea of repeating that, especially with a business-minded man like Sebastian, made me sick to my stomach.
“You could leave you know,” Jessie reminded me. She told me this every time she saw me. “I know, and I will.” I believed it, and I was getting things in order to leave in a year. But Jessie didn’t know the details, so when she shook her head and turned her focus back to her laptop, I couldn’t blame her. She hadn’t believed me in a long time.
We had been married four years, and we never really talked. I don’t think he was very interested in getting to know me anyway. The only surprising thing in our marriage was the random sex we had.
It had been going on like this for four years. I never knew when he would initiate it, and I rarely did. I figured it was when he was between other women.
We’d never connected beyond a physical level, and every time I was reminded of that, I felt an ache beneath my sternum. It felt like something was wrong, like I’d missed something in my four years of marriage. But as my hope for us died out, this painful throb in my chest only intensified.
“this is a great opportunity for you to prove to the masses how devoted you are to your husband. Moving across the country is a huge commitment.” I turned to him, unable to believe my ears. I was expected to go too.
I wanted to scream and cry and do everything I should do, considering I was being screwed over. But I was supposed to be composed. A model daughter. A model wife. No emotions. “This . . . is a great opportunity,” I said. Anxiety bubbled in my stomach. Sebastian glanced at me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was pissed. Maybe at his father, or maybe at me. I didn’t know.
My dad’s eyes met mine, and my lip wobbled for a second. He knew what this was doing to me. He knew I hated this marriage, and he knew I was going to run the minute I was out of it.
“I’ll have my assistant book us a flight.” A ball of cotton found its way into my throat at the mention of his assistant. I wasn’t foolish enough to think that Sebastian wasn’t sleeping around, and Heather was definitely one of the women he saw. She looked at him like he was the sun and the moon. I never paid attention to him looking at her to see if he felt the same.
She was a natural blonde, unlike my dyed hair, with a heart-shaped face and black-rimmed glasses. “I hear you need me.” That was my cue to leave.
