MRS BLACKWOOD
1087 Words
The Blackwood mansion made Elena wonder if she had somehow married into royalty.
She stared through the car window as they passed through the enormous iron gates.
The gates opened slowly, revealing a long driveway surrounded by carefully trimmed trees and flowers. A fountain stood in the middle of the circular garden, water falling gently into the pool beneath it.
Elena lowered the window slightly.
She looked at the mansion.
Then at Adrian.
Then back at the mansion.
"How many people live here?"
"Two."
Elena turned to him.
"Two?"
"Yes."
She looked at the house again.
"You and your ego?"
Adrian slowly turned his head toward her.
For a second, his face remained completely serious.
Then the corner of his mouth moved.
"Very funny."
"I was being serious."
"So was I."
She laughed.
The car finally stopped in front of the mansion.
Before Elena could open the door, a housekeeper hurried forward and opened it for her.
"Welcome home, Mrs. Blackwood."
Elena froze.
Mrs. Blackwood.
The words felt strange.
She stepped out of the car and forced a smile.
"Thank you."
Adrian came around the car.
"You'll get used to it."
"I don't think I will."
"You will."
"Is everyone going to call me that?"
"Probably."
She sighed.
"That is terrifying."
Adrian raised an eyebrow.
"Why?"
"Because I am still trying to understand how I became your wife. Now people are calling me Mrs. Blackwood like I have been married to you for twenty years."
"You are my wife."
"I know that."
"Then the title is accurate."
Elena rolled her eyes.
"You're not helping."
Adrian said nothing.
He simply took her suitcase from the driver and walked toward the entrance.
Elena followed.
The moment she stepped inside, she stopped.
The foyer was enormous.
Marble covered the floor. A curved staircase led upstairs, and a chandelier hung from the ceiling above them. Paintings decorated the walls, and everything looked expensive.
Elena slowly turned around.
"This is ridiculous."
Adrian glanced at her.
"What is?"
"You live here?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
He looked confused.
"Because I bought it."
"That wasn't what I meant."
For the first time, he almost smiled.
Elena walked farther into the house, but her excitement slowly disappeared.
Everything was beautiful.
Yet somehow, it made her feel small.
She looked down at her simple handbag.
"I don't belong here."
Adrian stopped.
"Why would you say that?"
She gestured around them.
"Look at this place. I grew up in a normal house, Adrian. My room wasn't even as big as this living room."
"So?"
"So this is your world. Not mine."
Adrian studied her for a moment.
Then he walked closer.
"Elena, you don't need to become someone else because you married me."
"But your family—"
"My grandmother will probably try to feed you until you cannot move."
Elena smiled.
"And the rest of your family?"
"They will learn."
"You make everything sound so easy."
"It isn't."
"Then why are you so calm?"
"Because panicking does not solve problems."
She sighed.
"You are impossible."
"I have been told that."
He picked up her suitcase again.
"Come on."
"Where?"
"Your room."
"My room?"
"Yes."
He led her upstairs.
When he opened the door, Elena stopped again.
This room was different.
It was elegant, but it didn't feel cold. Soft curtains framed the large window. There was a reading chair beside it, a small desk, a bookshelf, and fresh flowers on the bedside table.
Elena walked inside slowly.
"Did you arrange this?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"Yesterday."
She turned toward him.
"You knew I was coming?"
"I knew you might."
"You prepared a room for me before I even agreed?"
"I prefer being prepared."
She touched one of the flowers.
"They're beautiful."
"I asked them to use white ones."
"Why white?"
Adrian looked at her.
"You wore white at the courthouse."
Elena stared at him.
It was such a small detail.
Yet he had remembered.
"Thank you."
He nodded.
"You're welcome."
She hesitated.
"Where will you sleep?"
"Across the hall."
Her eyes widened.
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"You don't expect us to share a room?"
"No."
A quiet wave of relief passed through her.
Adrian noticed.
"You don't have to be afraid of me."
"I am not afraid of you."
"Then what are you afraid of?"
Elena looked away.
"Everything."
His expression softened.
"You don't have to figure everything out tonight."
He left before she could answer.
Elena sat on the edge of the bed.
For the first time that day, she breathed properly.
She had expected a husband who would remind her that she owed him.
Instead, Adrian had given her space.
She didn't understand him.
And somehow, that made her want to understand him even more.
That night, Elena couldn't sleep.
After tossing around for almost an hour, she finally got out of bed and walked downstairs.
She found the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.
She stared inside.
"There is enough food here to feed a small wedding party."
"You are talking to a refrigerator."
Elena screamed.
She spun around.
Adrian stood in the doorway.
"Do you always sneak up on people?"
"I wasn't sneaking."
"You scared me."
"I apologize."
She folded her arms.
"What are you doing here?"
"Getting water."
He walked toward the counter.
Elena watched him.
"You can't sleep either?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Work."
She noticed his rolled-up sleeves and the missing tie.
He looked different.
Less like the powerful stranger she had married.
More like an ordinary man who was tired.
"Do you work all night?"
"Sometimes."
"That is unhealthy."
He looked at her.
"Are you worried about me?"
"No."
His eyebrow rose.
"I was simply making an observation."
"Of course."
Elena opened the refrigerator again.
"I am hungry."
"Then eat."
"I don't know what to eat."
Adrian looked inside.
"Do you like pasta?"
"Yes."
He pulled out a few ingredients.
Elena stared.
"What are you doing?"
"Making pasta."
"You cook?"
"Sometimes."
She laughed.
"Adrian Blackwood cooks?"
"Shouldn't I?"
"I just imagined rich people having someone do everything for them."
"I don't like depending on people for everything."
Something about his words made her pause.
"Why?"
He was silent for a moment.
Then he answered quietly.
"Because people leave."
Elena's smile disappeared.
She understood that sentence more than he knew.
Neither spoke after that.
They simply stood together in the quiet kitchen.
Two strangers.
Two wounded people.
Two people who had somehow become husband and wife.
Neither of them knew it yet, but that simple night would become one of the memories they would treasure most.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD