The Virgin Bride

The Flat

There were still several hours before I could meet Arthur, and honestly, I didn't want to go home early since no one was waiting for me. So, seeing that it was just a few blocks away, I headed there.

It was located in an area that apparently had many services within my reach like cafes, a gym, restaurants, and shops I hadn't visited before, plus the park was relatively close. I was surprised that Arthur had thought of everything before even buying it. It seemed that maybe he had some kind of remorse, and although giving me a flat didn't excuse him from the crime of marrying a minor, it at least redeemed his guilt a little.

When I arrived at the address, I realized that the building where the flat was located was in an exclusive area, and just by looking at the facade, I knew the interior would be equally luxurious. I could even imagine several pieces of furniture being installed, as those types of places sold the flats like that, as ready-to-move-in homes. Not everyone could afford them, at least not all at once, as I assumed Arthur had done.

"Good afternoon," I introduced myself to the doorman, who, for a brief moment, looked at me strangely.

"Can I help you with something, Miss?" he asked with a certain courtesy, and most people who saw me enter a*****e looked at me with some confusion, perhaps because I looked too young to buy something of great value. When I pulled out the card, some would mention that my father must really spoil me. I didn't correct them. After all, I didn't know how to explain to people that it was actually my husband's and that he had no issue when I bought something excessively expensive.

"I just acquired a flat in this building," I clarified. From his expression, I knew problems would start, as he didn't seem to believe me.

"An apartment, you say?" he questioned, very confused, then looked at me again.

"That's right," I assured him. To get him to let me pass, I took out the purchase documents and my identification, which my father had arranged for to make my marriage to Arthur Sallow valid. "I just received the documents, but they didn't give me the key."

"Are you sure about what you're saying?" he insisted. The guy seemed not to trust someone as young as me, but I was actually turning 16 that very day, and I wasn't a common person as everyone judged me to be.

"I am. Now, if it's not too much trouble, I would like to speak with someone from the administration," I insisted. After all, there was no reason for him not to let me pass. It's not like I was planning to rob the entire building, although I had heard that some kids my age used to enter luxurious houses and apartments, without permission and just to take photos and post them on i********: to show off something they didn't really have.

"Could you let me see your documentation for a moment?" His tone changed, and he seemed annoyed with my insistence.

"Are you going to let me through?" I questioned warily. After all, there was a possibility they might want to take my things and make me out to be crazy or a criminal. It had happened to me once, and it was not exactly a pleasant feeling.

"First, I need to verify that your documents are real," he concluded. And although I really feared the worst, I still gave in. The guy had the audacity to shut the door in my face, perhaps fearing I would take advantage of his absence to sneak inside. So I waited for a couple of minutes, which seemed unbearable if not embarrassing, but he returned immediately and didn't seem very happy, though not angry. Rather, he seemed worried.

"My apologies," he said once he opened the door, then handed me my ID, but not the other documents. "Walk down the hallway to the end and knock on the first door."

"And the rest?" I questioned immediately, now with evident annoyance.

"The administrator will return them to you shortly," he replied, bowing his head slightly.

That was the problem I usually faced. The fact that people around me distrusted me for looking young and even naive. But I didn't like makeup, perhaps because of the time it takes to put it on.

I didn't really have a reason to use it. I felt good about myself and knew that at some point, perhaps when I was in love or on some very, very special occasion, I would take the initiative to put on makeup. But in the meantime, I preferred to use the minimum. That is, I didn't mind using at least a little lip balm.

After following the doorman's unclear directions, I reached the administrative office, which wasn't all that bad. I knocked on the door, and a young woman opened it immediately. I assumed she must be the secretary.

"Is there something I can help you with?" she questioned, surprised, perhaps expecting someone older to show up at that moment. So I was forced to raise my ID, which now bore the surname Sallow.

"I came to clarify a matter regarding the purchase of my apartment," I explained, trying to tolerate this ridiculous situation.

"Oh, excuse me, please, come in!" she indicated, stepping aside.

She directed me to enter her boss's office, who was already expecting me. But unlike the other employees who were surprised, he seemed more interested in resolving a particular issue.

"You need my signature?" I questioned once he explained that was all he needed for me to be given the key to my apartment. The transaction was done, but although the legal documentation was in my name, nothing was valid until I put my signature on the documents.

"Alright," I said after reflecting that perhaps that's why the documents had arrived at the mansion and not at Arthur's apartment. Maybe he intended to surprise me at home and wait for me to sign to complete the purchase process.

The man offered me a pen. I signed the documents using the same signature I had invented on my wedding day. When I finished, the man in front of me made a couple of copies and then handed me the originals along with the keys to the apartment.

"We will send you your title deed within three days. Are you planning to move in soon? Or would you prefer us to send it to your current address?" he asked, as if I had already planned the coming weeks, when in reality, I didn't know how I would spend the rest of the afternoon.

"Please, send them to my current address," I requested, as I had only gone to that place with the sole purpose of seeing the apartment, not to sign anything and much less to decide what I would do with that place.

"This might sound a bit silly, but what floor is it on?" I asked, since I hadn't read the entire document before arriving.

"Top floor. Penthouse," he announced, somewhat surprised, but he didn't seem to distrust me. Maybe he knew something about it. I mean, Arthur must have explained something, right?

I left the office and headed to the elevator. This time, neither the secretary nor the doorman said a word. But they did look at me with some astonishment, perhaps knowing that someone so young had acquired an apartment worth several million pounds.

I felt nervous when the doors closed. I hadn't expected Arthur to do something like that for me. it was too sweet and at the same time disconcerting, since there was no reason or clear motive unless he wanted something from me. Only then did my heart race and my cheeks blush.

When the elevator doors opened, letting me into a wide hallway with only one door, I swallowed hard, realizing how large the apartment was. It wasn't bigger than the mansion, but certainly big enough for me.

I inserted the key into the lock, and after a couple of turns, the door opened, revealing the incredible, modern splendor that money could buy. It was lavish and extravagant. I think that perhaps Arthur didn't care about the decoration, which is why it was styled to his taste, as that style reminded me a lot of him.

I strolled through the place calmly, taking my time as I had a long wait before meeting Arthur. The apartment had two already furnished bedrooms, each with its own bathroom and closet. There was also an office, a kitchen, and a fairly spacious living room, but the highlight was the window offering a view of all of London.

I adored the new apartment, so while I was looking out the window, I thought of Arthur and the handkerchief I had brought to thank him for that charming gesture. However, I didn't want to give it to him just like that, without a note expressing my true gratitude, since I'm not really good at expressing myself verbally. I took advantage of a pen and notebook someone had left behind.

I took the liberty of borrowing them and wrote what I felt: "Thanks a lot for everything. This has been my best birthday ever."

I folded the note and, after taking out Arthur's gift, I put it inside, hoping my note would be an extra surprise for him. However, as I put the lid on the small blue box with the tie and handkerchief, I heard someone come in through the door, which startled me a bit, since I remembered closing it.

When I peeked out, I saw the same administrator who had given me the key. I assumed he might have forgotten to mention something. But as I got closer, I overheard him talking to someone else.

"I'm very sorry, the young lady showed me her documents, and I verified they were legal," I heard the administrator say in an embarrassed tone.

I walked towards him, but before I could even ask the administrator what was going on, Arthur entered through the door

"Do you want me to call the police?" the man asked, now suspicious of me.

"No," Arthur replied curtly, in his usual deep voice, the one that made me tremble and freeze. "She is my wife."

"Then, I don't understand. What is the problem?" the administrator asked. And without Arthur saying anything, I knew this didn't look good at all. I felt like a defenseless animal, cornered by a predator and about to die.

"Leave, now," Arthur said with a certain calmness, but that tranquility was what terrified me the most about him. It was like a cat playing with its prey before killing it, but without the intention of eating it. That's how he amused himself.

The administrator closed the door, leaving me locked in with Arthur, which unsettled me quite a bit. I hated being alone with him, not exactly because I feared he would do something against me. That wasn't his style, or at least he had never given me reasons to think he would harm me. His way of torturing me was with his gaze, his posture, the way he surrounded and spoke to me. He loved doing that.