____________

Noriko

 

 

 

I was a paper butterfly torn in two.

I was Noriko Blackwell, a woman who was desperately in love with this beautiful, complicated man. Drake was the first thing on my mind when I woke, my body rushing alive with anticipation to catch him before he left for work, me leaning into the open window of his limo, us kissing like teenagers until he was late. When he returned home and folded me into his arms, I was free.

I was a woman who was tumbling and spinning, like autumn leaves caught in a breeze, deeper and deeper in love.

Then I was Noriko Akiyama, a daughter who made a promise to her sick father that she would come home after one year. A girl whose husband wouldn’t let her speak to the family she left behind. A girl who still slept alone, whose husband still left in the dead of the night. Who woke up every morning in a cold marriage bed. And a wife carrying a secret as to why she was still not pregnant.

The wife and the daughter were two separate people living in one body. It was the only way that we could live with ourselves. But this careful separation was fragile, the division was thin and tenuous. The daughter was growing to despise the wife, to hate her for loving her husband who kept her from her father.

The wife was beginning to hate the daughter for reminding her that her love had an ending because of a promise she made to her father. The wife hated the daughter for continuing to take those secret pills so that the family she wanted would never come to be.

The daughter and the wife were two different people, but they were both prisoners. As the weeks went by, the call for freedom grew louder and more desperate.

 

 

 

“Drake,” I asked, one evening while laying in bed, “I want to take a painting class.”

He paused his tracing on my stomach. “But you paint so beautifully.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re my husband. You’re supposed to think the world of me. It’s an actual requirement, you know.”

“I think that because you are truly talented.”

“There’s always room for improvement. I found a painting class in town that I’d really like to go to on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.”

He paused, a frown growing between his brows. “Aren’t you happy here?”

“Of course I am, Drake. But I’m bored. I need something to do with my days.”

“I’ll get the teacher to come here, the best one money can buy, every day of the week if you like.”

I let out a frustrated huff and tried to keep my voice steady. “I want to be in a class. With other people. I only get to see you, Drake.” The staff here always seemed too busy to talk to me.

“And I’m not enough?” His voice was chips of ice.

“Of course you are. I still want friends.”

He stiffened. “Male friends?”

I shook my head. “Male. Female. What does it matter?”

He rolled aside, getting to his feet. “I am not letting you go gallivanting around some art school where there are opportunistic vultures sniffing around you.”

I sat up. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh?” He began to pace. “You don’t think the whole of LA is obsessed with you now as the wife of the third richest man in America. Trust me, Noriko, this city is full of sharks who won’t think twice about using you.”

“Drake—”

“I just want to protect you. I’ll get you your own private painting teacher. That’s final.”

I rolled over, my back to him, squeezing my eyes shut against the waves of frustration crashing over me.

I was a prisoner here. He wouldn’t let me leave. He wouldn’t let me have friends. He wanted me to have only him. To sit at home and do nothing but wait for him. He loved me so much he was suffocating me.

I loved him. But I hated that he was like this.

This is why you have to get out when the year is up, the daughter in me screamed. If you fall pregnant he will never ever let you leave.

For once, the wife was silent.

 

 

 

I found myself growing restless during the day. I’d explored the entire mansion, I’d wandered the gardens and the grounds. I’d even made my way into the servants’ quarters today just to find someone to talk to, and was promptly chased out by Loretta.

I was bored.

I felt like all I did was lie around reading, waiting for Drake to come home. For him to sit beside me at dinner. For him to come to my room afterwards and strip me and make love to me. For me to lose myself in his touch, in his beautiful body.

He still went to his room after we were done. I still slept alone.

I felt like I was only alive for three or four hours a day, a translucent cloth thrown over the remaining hours so they were muted and muffled.

That night, Drake appeared in my room later than usual. I was sitting with my legs up on my window seat, despondency making my head heavy, resting my chin on my knees. Today, for once, I had allowed myself to feel the bars that held me. Feel the chill radiating from the cage that seemed to close even tighter and tighter around me.

“I have something for you,” I heard him say from my doorway.

“Great.” I didn’t turn my head towards him. There was a bird sitting on the branch outside, small and brown with round, alert eyes. She might have nothing except the wings on her back, but she was free. She had purpose.

“Noriko?” I heard Drake’s footsteps as he crossed my bedroom towards me. He took my hands and pulled me up to my feet. Only then did I look up at him. “What’s wrong?”

I wanted to yell at him. Like all of this was his fault. Even though I chose this marriage. I accepted this sacrifice.

“I missed,” my father, my family, my freedom, “…you at dinner tonight.” I wasn’t completely lying. His company had become the one light in my purgatory. The one thing I looked forward to. I hated him for it. I hated him and I needed him just as much.

“I have something for you,” he said again. “I think it will cheer you up. Come.” He led me from the bedroom and we walked in silence down the corridor.

He brushed his fingers against my arm and found my hand, pushing his fingers into mine. I stared down at our hands, my pale bird-like one, and his tanned, large, immaculately manicured one, dotted with a plain platinum wedding band set with a tasteful row of tiny diamonds. I never noticed his wedding ring until now. I didn’t remember him having one when we first met.

We stopped at a door farther down the east wing on the same floor as our bedrooms. I remembered looking inside this room. It was another stuffy sitting room. He squeezed my hand before he pushed open the door for me. Was he…nervous?

I stepped inside.

My mouth dropped open. Oh my God.

The entire room had been gutted, the floors stripped of carpet and replaced with polished wooden flooring. There was a huge table in the center, easels in all corners, stacks of framed blank canvases leaning against one wall next to a huge sink, another wall of shelves filled with paints and pots and brushes and rolls and rolls of paper—all kinds of paper, all colors and thicknesses.

That was what the workmen were doing these last few days. Loretta told me there had been a leak in one of the rooms and not to go in there. I had believed her. She had been in on this.

“Do you like it?” The hopeful look on Drake’s face softened my sadness. He was trying to be a good husband. He was trying so hard to please me.

“I…I can’t believe you did this for me,” I said, my voice trembling. “It’s wonderful.”

His smile grew until it crinkled the corners of his warm brown eyes. “Good. Great.”

I turned and surveyed the room again—my studio.

My studio for less than one year.

Guilt shot through me as I thought of my hidden pills. Maybe I should give Drake a chance? Maybe I could stay…?

No. Remember your promise. Your father needs you.

I couldn’t accept this.

“Drake, it’s wonderful, but it’s too much. I can’t—”

“Nothing is too much for you.”

He dipped his face into my neck and inhaled, sliding his arms around me. He groaned against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “You smell incredible, Noriko, I—” He cut off, grabbing the hem of my shirt and pushing it up to expose my breasts. “So beautiful,” he muttered, before he swooped in and covered one nipple with his wet mouth.

I let out a cry, my head falling back as pleasure made my body tighten and ache. His tongue was magic. His touch like the caress of angels and the devil all at once.

His hands slid up the back of my thighs, picking me up and wrapping my legs around his waist. He strode to the table in the center of the room and laid me down on it like I was something precious. The way he was looking at me made me feel precious.

Don’t get used to this, Noriko, the voice inside me said. You’re only his wife for one year, remember?

I ignored that stupid voice. For the next few hours, I forgot. I forgot about my promise. I forgot about my cage. I forgot everything except for the beautiful man here with me.

 

 

 

Drake and I had been getting along incredibly well for the past week. I thought it might be a good time to push an issue we didn’t see eye to eye on. I had to pick my timing.

I studied Drake as we sat together for dinner that night. He seemed in a good mood. I waited until he’d eaten most of his meal before I decided to brave it.

“Drake?”

“Hmm?”

“I was thinking about my father today. How his treatment’s going. And my sisters. Wondering how they are…”

He didn’t speak. Something dark flashed across his eyes.

Unease tumbled around inside me. I barreled on anyway. “It would make me so happy if I could call—”

His jaw tightened. “We’ve already spoken about this, Noriko. Several times, in fact.”

“I don’t even know how he is. How his treatment is going.”

“Your father’s fine. They’re all fine.”

“If I could speak to him—”

“Do you think I’d be so cruel that I wouldn’t tell you if something happened to him?”

“You’re keeping tabs on them?” This revelation left me cold.

“Of course I am. What is important to you is important to me.” His voice went all soft. “Your home is here now, with me. Any contact with them is going to make you homesick. I’m doing this for you, darling.” He reached out to pat my hand, a patronizing move that made me want to punch him straight in the mouth.

I snatched my hand out from under his and crossed my arms over my chest. “I want to speak to my father. Don’t you love me?”

“Don’t you dare question my love for you.” His fist slammed down on the table, his eyes glittering with rage. “You are all I think about. You are all I do anything for.”

“Then why won’t you—”

“I’ve just told you why.”

“But, I—”

“No. Noriko, that is final. I know you think I’m being cruel. Trust me, it’s for the best.” He picked up his fork and resumed eating.

White-hot rage swirled inside me, forming and taking shape.

See, the daughter inside me wailed. He doesn’t love you. Only Papa and your sisters do. You must keep your promise.

No, the wife cried. He’s only acting this way because he doesn’t know any better. I can teach him…