- 7 ChsContent
- ratings
- N/ASUPPORT
[18+ readers] "I was not sorry. Not even once." My eyes fell upon those long pale fingers which just held me from a certain death. "You are already a pain. If you go around doing like this might as well put me into the bars for years." His bad-mouth was so lively that even those harsh cold words were enough to make me cry and roll down to my knees. Julien Tedd. 25 years old married to a grumpy cold-hearted man in his 30s. An actor and a CEO of PAXTON Trades which was in delta. He as a fake husband with grey eyes and an vexed face. Who loves money than anything. "I wasn't a bitch to you. Who asked you to fake marry me? My parents loved to woo you in their well-beings." Those were the first time I said something deliberate to outstand my voice in that relationship. "Bit furry of time. If my memory serves right. Monica, You Annabella with two horns. Go sleep alway to death." He did hurt my heart that day. We slept in different bedrooms. Though we would put an act on when our parents visits us. On occasions like weddings or house rituals with my young sisters or my big brothers side. He hated me being around him. I hated him how he ignored my existence in the big mirage of his. He loved to call me by my first name Monica Dus. He didn't bother to put the Tedd of his name beside mine. I was no honour of him. He wasn't proud of me. when we both married I was a professor and was soon becoming the principal of the FD college, Columbia University. My dad proposal broke me down to marry some unknown grumpy man!! I was still in my 25 years where I should be happy not sad. Our marriage was like a contract basis- He would act on his role. As if he was gifted this act to do. I found myself fond of his submissive side. His black hair was perfect with those thin glasses which read thousands of newspapers or faces of other ladies. Wait! Other ladies? He impressed other ladies while doing his job too. My marriage was fake. Very fake. Made-up in my mind that we would somehow fit with each other nagging, fighting being disloyal and bad-mouthing for everything. Martina, my younger sister questioned my marriage or love life which was written on my face everytime I visit them. That I was never happened to be putting this act on. Not even the marriage was forced without anything enclosed about to me. It was winter, when I started to understand him. He was practically tired of putting upto me. Not even coming physically challenged with me. His lips told the words which were hard to swallow "I want to end this acting for years. Would you mind helping me recover that?" What's exactly that? It was just as my younger sister said 'he will fight to keep you by his side as you live with him. You know how to cook what to cook. When he gets angry or happy. He will dip his head to make you feel loved and love you too.' Was it true? Then was I always this dumb? His hard big thump pressed my forehead bringing me back to seep into the eyes of his. "I said will you take responsibility for making me sick for two years?" My lips parted to speak but it wasn't speaking anymore they were locked with my married man. The man who owned me. Who minutes ago made me feel a complete loser and defeated me to get on my knees and cry for him. Beg him to spare the life. To cut all the marriage ties with him. Are we able to hold a family anymore. A real one? Was he? Or he was fooling around? Those years of carnage over my ears, eyes, lips were already served as a graveyard right?
Two bags on her left hand as she struggles to keep her footing to the floor when she notices me sitting with two freshly ordered black coffee with no sugar. My smile beamed to her rustle into the bag. Coming to a halt she huffs and sits on the chair. "Oh my fucking god! Finally seeing the most beautiful women in my life again." Her eyes squeeze in excitement as she cups my hand. "How are you" my laugh get her as she shakes me "oh, oh, I'm more than fine. Would you like to offer me some time of yours?" I ask blankly.
She works up for my excitement as she takes a brief look at the menu and sets aside of the coffee cup I ordered. She nods and takes out her laptop to show me her penthouse outlook. My mouth hangs open as the designed kitchen and bathroom shows up and my eyes catches a two pieced man who appears to be two times taller than her. He holds her hand in his. Somehow he looks like Julien. Broad shoulders and the way he walks over the sofa and in front of the wide window.
Ava shoots me a look "what's wrong? You look tired?" My smile falls as I straighten my back and answer her "I have a charity ceremony today. A decent dress which I don't have in my wardrobe." I lied. She nods in excitement as she takes the laptop to her and exits the screen. The movement of her fingers is fast. She exhales and taps my hand. "Tell, you what? I have an idea of taking you to my favourite dress shop. It's near 62' street. Wanna go?"
Atleast, I can have fresh air filled in my lungs as I take my bag and swing it to my shoulders. My eyes hold another man's eyes. He is dark and tall as he gets up and marches to a waitress and leaves the restaurant. Weird.
We finally made it to the shop. There were each and every kind of dress. Two piece, one piece and especially all revealing and I am quite certain that Julien will frown if I get a torn or revealing dress for the charity. So, I got a green knot, a cocktail dress which was practically revealing but not for my chest and lower body. It was formal. Solid, and god the colour is so reviving. We pass by smiling employees, and shops prepping for another busy day out the road.
Ava grasps on my arm as she takes out her phone and receives a call. "Yes, hello, oh, shit. I'm on it sir!" She turns to me as she shoves her phone in her coat pocket and turns to me "it was such a wonderful evening but this asshole has to ruin it. I'm sorry for leaving you here. I have to take care of some documents we can meet next sunday? And I promise it will be just for us." I nod understanding that she is a PA. Fuck it! It has to be! She is anything but her mind is like a cat. She chases and gets it.
Coming back home from playing two hours of boring golf with the club owners made me throw up. My mind was still thinking about Catalina's incident. After her mother told me not to visit I was holding myself back but the thing I got to hear was that Monica got out and had her best friend to spend the rest of the day with and bought a new dress from her money. My mother didn't even earn anything after she got married to my father. My father deliberately insisted her to leave her two time job and sit in the house and take care of us. My brothers matured quickly as I took all responsibilities from a very young age.
I didn't care about money or fame. I got good grades. All the teachers acknowledged me. My passion. Even some of them spreaded rumours of me hanging out with drug dealers and raping women. When in truth I was distant with any of the girls of my class or school. Later, when I was an adult my father got me his position. Money came and affectionately Catalina was the first woman to take my boring money on her hands and spend it. After one year, she got into a heartbreaking accident and now she is in a coma. It has been almost five months since she was sleeping on the bed of the hospital.
Monica bounces over the kitchen as she cooks something that smells a little cream or cheese. My eyes widen as she turns to me holding a knife in her hand. She is insanely beautiful when she cooks. Her right eye twitches as she brushes her hand sideways. "Don't be late. We have an hour to get there" I drop on the sofa as Aunt Perry serves me a cup of coffee which I was craving for.
"I know. I will be back." She gets to the stairs as I stare at her footings. She runs fast enough for me to hold her hostage and ask her why she was with her best friend rather than asking me to spend time with her.
I check the time on my wrist watch as she steps in the dress with her hair pulled back and curls falling on her face with light makeup. She looks really like her mother. Plump lips and lush skin. Catalina was pale at every inch. She checks her makeup and hair after getting into the car. I sit beside her with my phone and type Marcus to keep our guests updated over the project I was going to share with them.
My target was to pretend to be a souvenir couple with hopes, dignity and respect for each other. Every couple shows love and kisses but not us. We fill love in our heart by showing respect to each other. She looks outside the window and sometimes she takes pictures of beautiful evening scenes. The landscape was mined and taken care of it everyday. The Botanic garden around the street is visible as it was lit with lamps around the post.
