Since the day in the sun room, when he had caught me watering the plants, I was careful to go about my business when he wasn’t around. He had decided he wanted a bride he wouldn’t have anything to do with. But when he had stood outside the bedroom, across the hall from me, there had been something in his eyes—pain?—that I didn’t understand. I almost asked, but he walked away as if he suspected I would. There was a lot about Raymond I didn’t understand, but he was determined to shut me out. Although his wife, I felt like it wasn’t my place to ask him about his personal life—a life I should automatically have been a part of when we got hitched. But I didn’t ask because I feared he would have questions of his own I couldn’t answer. So I stayed away, locked in my room, until he wasn’t around.

I was still in bed one morning when Henrietta called.

“Hey, Henrietta,” I mumbled through the sheets.

“Are you still in bed?” she asked.

“I might as well be. I have nothing to do, and it’s starting to look suspicious when I do chores.”

“Do chores?” she asked incredulously, her pitch rising with every word. “Anna, you can’t do that. Plus, didn’t you say on your profile you have a fashion business or something like that?”

“Yeah, but you and I know that’s not true,” I replied and shimmied from under the covers.

“He doesn’t. He will expect to see you doing something or going somewhere. Maybe you could stage a conversation with a buyer or model or something that won’t make him look at you like a phony.”

“But I am a phony,” I cried. “How can I keep this up forever? It’s bound to come out one day, and I don’t even want to think about what will happen then.”

“Then don’t,” she snapped. “Get it together and stop worrying so much. He doesn’t expect much, so don’t over think it.”

“Are you sure I’m the older one?” I asked with a groan.

“I’m not so sure sometimes,” she replied smugly. “But I know you said fashion for a reason. I’ve seen you do drawings that are way better than mine. At least get a sketch pad.”

Henrietta had a point, of course. I couldn’t sit in my room every day doing nothing without drawing suspicion. “Okay, I’ll get something. Hey, can we go together? I’m still new to this.”

“Now you’re talking,” she said excitedly. “Maybe we will get you some new clothes, too.”

* * *

Henrietta met me at the Dolphin Mall—a place I had never visited. Most of my clothes came from Goodwill or donation boxes. The closest I’d ever come to anything as fine as what Henrietta showed me was the dress I’d worn to meet Raymond. She showed me jewelry I didn’t think I’d ever be able to afford, clothes that were luxurious and soft, and shoes that seemed to have been made for me. I was in a different world, and when I was fully clothed in what the store had to offer, I felt like I had crossed over into another dimension and that the woman in the mirror was a copy of myself. An upgrade!

The card Raymond had given me was limitless, and I realized that doors opened to the wealthy, and smiles illuminated everyone’s faces with our appearance. Most of the store owners knew Henrietta, and by the time we left, they knew me too. The things I bought were too much for my car—my car—so Henrietta accompanied me home. We had a ball as I fitted one gown after another, one pair of shoes here and earrings there, until I was exhausted.

“You should have told me being rich was exhausting,” I wailed dramatically and fell back against the bed.

Henrietta laughed. “It can be a chore sometimes, if you know what I mean.”

“Speaking of which, I’m going to take Mom some money at the shelter. I don’t know how much longer she’ll be there, but Teresa needs medicine.”

“Oh, how is she?” Henrietta asked with concern.

“The same, I guess,” I answered sadly. “But I have all this money at my disposal, right? Might as well make good use of it before he discovers I’m a phony.”

“Oh, stop saying that,” Henrietta cried. “You deserve every bit of this. And if you play your cards right, you won’t ever have to leave this house.”

Raymond wasn’t an idiot. Even getting money to my mom would have to be done stealthily. I had to go to the shelter with a cover, just in case I was spotted, and Henrietta was as good a cover as any.

“I might need you to go with me to see my mom,” I told her without looking at her. I stared at the ceiling until the room felt like it was spinning.

“Sure. Just let me know when. You know I have nothing better to do than shop,” she giggled.

When I glanced across at her, her eyes were roaming the room, and a curious expression clouded her face. “Is this your room?”

I hung my head. “Yeah. He sleeps across the hall in the master suite.”

“Why don’t you sleep in there with him?”

“He made it very clear this was merely business,” I told her. “He suggested it, but I preferred keeping the distance. Whenever he wants to…you know…have sex or whatever…I can go over, or he can come here.” Every time I thought about sex with him, panic stirred inside me. I couldn’t imagine it with a man so determined to be cold or to stay away from me.

“This is all so weird. This isn’t what I thought being married would feel like. We’re strangers under the same roof, and he doesn’t want anything other than to say he is married.”

“Well,” Henrietta crooned as she drew close to me on the bed, “you have to make him see you then, my dear.” She brushed my hair back and toyed with one of my curls. “You are young and you are beautiful. He won’t be able to resist you for long.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “You’re saying I should seduce him?”

She giggled. “A little touch here, a revealing dress there… I’ve seen it work wonders before. Men are weak to that kind of thing.”

I wouldn’t know. I’d never been in a relationship before, nor was I endowed with ‘feminine wiles’ that would likely attract a man to me sexually. I felt ridiculous even thinking about it.

“I don’t know about that. Maybe I should wait until he’s ready,” I suggested.

She shrugged. “Your call. Anyway, I should go,” she said and stood. We hugged and she kissed my cheeks. “I’ll see you soon, and remember, you have to play out the game.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” I drawled. “Now go before you drive me crazy.”

After she had gone, I set up the easel—which I wouldn’t really use—and lay my sketch pads neatly on a stand next to it. I loved to draw, so I flipped one of the pads open. I took the charcoal and stared at the blank page for a while before my hands started to move. I remembered a dress on one of the mannequins I had seen a short while ago and an adjustment I had thought of at the time. My hand moved, and in a short while, the image of a woman appeared wearing an A-line dress with a crop top that revealed her cleavage. I was working my way down the page, altering the design at the tail end of the dress, when I sensed someone.

I looked around and was startled when I saw him watching me. I forgot the detail I was about to add as my hands became paralyzed. “You shouldn’t do that. You might give me a heart attack one day,” I said faintly. I didn’t look at him but at the image on the pad.

He walked closer, so close I could smell the cologne he wore. It coursed with masculinity, and I dared to look at him, at the way he moved with purpose, and imagined the ripples that formed on his stomach with each step. He reached me, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. My head felt dizzy and I closed my eyes as I tried to regain control. There was no question he was attractive and very sensual. I would have allowed him if he wanted to have sex with me right then. But he didn’t ask, and I was slightly disappointed.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you, but I noticed you through the open door. That is nice,” he said as he pointed to the pad. Then he looked around the room. “You know, you don’t have to keep your work in the bedroom,” he said and smiled. One of the few I’d seen.

“I know,” I lied. I had every intention of confining myself to my room. “I just got back and got caught up in the moment.”

“Okay,” he said, and walked away again, as he always did, when we happened to say more than ten words.

“Raymond?” I called after him, and he paused but didn’t look back. “What happened to you?”

He had a look of uncertainty when he turned. “What do you mean?”

“Would it be so bad if we got close?”

His lips thinned, and his face twitched. “It’s better this way.”

“Better for who?” I pressed.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” he said stoically and left.

I couldn’t figure him out, and each time I tried to, he shut down. We rarely had dinner together, so I could only hope the invitation was a slight opening of his personal space. Still, I didn’t look forward to it; dinner only meant more anxiety for me. Plus, all my dining skills would be on display. My palms were already clammy from thinking about it.

I didn’t do much drawing after that. I put away the clothes and other things I’d bought, and while I did that, I remembered Henrietta’s advice. I set aside an off-white chiffon romper with ruffles at the neck that would show off my neckline and a matching pair of gold and white sandals. By the time I was done it was already dark and time to appear before Raymond’s scrutinizing eyes.

I walked into the dining hall just after him, and I saw his jaw drop. He collected himself hastily and smoothed the front of his shirt. He indicated the seat next to him, which he promptly pulled out and offered to me.

I was barely breathing, and sitting next to him was too distracting. I felt numb and mute, and I couldn’t wait for it to be over so I could escape to my room again. It was the most laborious dinner I’ve ever had, and though the dishes smelled extraordinarily palatable, I didn’t taste a thing. My mind was utterly consumed with the handsome stranger next to me—my husband.

He ate, and not a single word was uttered. My mouth went around and around, chewing until the food turned to paste in my mouth. Absent-mindedly, I reached for the salt at the same time he did, and our hands touched. We froze, and I felt something like electricity rush up my hand and swell all over my body. I pulled back quickly and so did he, neither of us wanting the salt any longer.

I glanced at him and saw his clenched jaws and purposeful stare as his gaze focused on the plate. Despite his cold demeanor, I was drawn to him, more than I thought I would be. I wanted him to see me, and I wanted him to want me. It was unbearable knowing he was mine yet he wasn’t. The whole paradox wasn’t lost on me. I was a victim, acutely aware of my newfound existence that was supposed to have been my escape, and that of my family’s, but was slowly becoming more like a prison sentence.

I felt the tears sting my eyes, and I excused myself quickly and hurried from the table. He may not have even noticed I was gone. I didn’t look back, but when I was in my room, I heard him come upstairs. His footsteps stopped outside my door. I waited for him to come in, but he went to his room. The door closing dampened my spirits, and I couldn’t hold back the tears.

Why I thought it would be any different after the contract was signed, I had no idea. He had made it clear he didn’t want anything to do with me outside of my baby-making capabilities and my face in public. Other than that, I’d be free to do as I pleased. But him saying that and my living with it had proven to be two completely different things. It was harder to accomplish each day, and I resolved that I would stay away from him as much as possible. Maybe the feelings he stirred in me would fade, and he would be no more to me than the stranger he insisted on being.