The Virgin Bride

Misunderstood

I kept my gaze fixed on him, on his expression and his eyes. This man really frightened me. But if there was something I had learned from Sophie or my father, it was not to lower my gaze. Doing so would give victory to a manipulator, and I wasn't willing to give him that satisfaction.

"What is happening?" I gathered the courage to break the uncomfortable silence between us.

"That's exactly what I'm asking you," he said with a firm and somewhat cold voice, just as he had done in the past. He began to walk around me, pretending to observe the apartment and the furniture that decorated the place. "What are you doing here?"

"Today, I received some documents in the mail in my name for the purchase of an apartment," I justified, standing my ground, but without lowering my gaze. I felt I shouldn't show weakness. I didn't know what was happening, but if there was one thing I could be sure of, it was that Arthur was upset, more than usual.

"And you came to see the place?" he questioned with a certain air of mockery and sarcasm.

"Since I didn't recognize the purchase, I wanted to find out what was going on," I replied, hoping he would give me a clue. That is, that he would finally tell me why he had bought this place in my name.

"There's nothing here that concerns you," he said curtly. "But I thank you for saving me the trouble of looking for you to finalize the purchase of the apartment."

I felt a strange pressure in my chest as he said those words, and I had to place my hand there, perhaps by instinct or as a reflection of what my body had felt. I swallowed hard and again tried to stand firm to keep intact the little dignity I had left.

"So..." I paused to properly reformulate my question and make sure my voice wouldn't fail me. "Did you just use my name?"

"That way I avoid paying taxes," he admitted cynically while taking a seat on the leather sofa and settling into a commanding posture.

I turned to look him in the eyes, thinking that the best way to get out of that embarrassing situation was to take my gift, which still rested on the bar separating the kitchen from the living room, and leave without saying anything else. But before I could even move a single foot, someone else entered through the door without even taking the time to knock.

It was a slender woman with pronounced curves and a relatively small dress. Her makeup was spectacular, and her hair so straight and silky. I had nothing against that type of woman. That is, those who have the time and money and dedication to care about their image. But at that moment, all I could do was judge and despise her.

It was then that I remembered my wedding day. I remembered the type of woman my husband enjoyed riding like a rabbit in heat. How had I forgotten? Why the hell did I let myself get my hopes up with him when I knew and understood who Arthur Sallow was?

"I understand," I said, but my voice came out weak. I no longer had exactly the same strength to hold his gaze. "It's for her."

"Darling," the sensuous-looking girl interrupted, entering the apartment, ignoring the fact that I was in the middle of the room. "Are you going to be long?"

"No, actually, my wife is about to leave," he admitted shamelessly with a wide smile on his lips as he got up from his seat. The girl glanced at me with a mix of pity and annoyance. But what humiliated me the most about that situation was the way she twisted her lips as if I were worth nothing.

"I don't like waiting," the girl reproached him as she turned around with her arms crossed and went back to the hallway she had come from.

"Why are you still here?" he questioned me.

It seemed like I was the only one who didn't understand what was happening there. Both acted so normally, as if I didn't exist… or as if I shouldn't.

"If my presence bothers you so much, why don't you divorce me?" I questioned, tired and frustrated with the situation. "We don't have to keep putting up with each other. I could leave in peace, and you could continue with your mistresses."

I thought my insolent complaint would make him angry and, therefore, we would have, after a year, our first argument as if we were really a married couple. But instead, Arthur just let out a small, mocking laugh.

"You're very funny," he expressed with a smile, then took a step towards me, and I was forced to step back the same distance. "But I couldn't divorce you even if I wanted to. We're bound to each other, darling, so you'd better get used to my whores because I only indulge those who indulge me. Or do you want to join us?"

My hand moved on instinct. Never in my life had I done something like that, but due to the circumstances, I was forced to defend myself. So, in the end, I slapped him in the face, but it didn't do much.

Arthur was much taller than me. Perhaps if I had worn heels, I would have been at a much more decent height, at least so he wouldn't have to lower his gaze to see me. I felt like he was looking at a bug he could crush. I had hit him, but it seemed to me that Arthur expected me to do so since his face didn't move a single millimeter. It was firm as a rock, and then I wondered how many slaps he had already received to be so well-trained.

"You're an i***t!" I huffed and turned to leave that wretched place. But in my escape, and before leaving, Arthur grabbed my wrist and, in one swift and unexpected move, spun me around to then have me against the wall of the penthouse.

"And you're a little girl who doesn't understand her position in this marriage," he cornered me, and to make matters worse, he put his leg between mine, putting weight on me to prevent me from fighting back. The bastard was practiced, and I was terrified!

"Let me go!" I shouted, hoping his mistress would at least hear my screams and come to see what was happening. I supposed that if I managed to distract him, I could knee him in the groin and finally escape, but that woman didn't appear.

"Why would I?" he continued using that irritating tone of voice, that way of mocking me. "You're a spoiled brat who needs a lesson."

"Are you my father or something?" I taunted. But as I spoke, I felt my eyes fill with small drops that threatened to fall.

"I'm more than that, sweetheart. I'm your husband, and after that slap, I'd like to punish you properly," he said with a wicked smile on his lips as he closed the distance between his lips and mine, or at least that's how it seemed to me.

However, before he could touch me, the other woman finally appeared.

"What does this mean?" she protested, and Arthur stopped and glanced towards her. She was holding something in her hands, a package that seemed to be sheets. And when she got Arthur's attention, she threw them on the floor. "This is not Egyptian cotton!"

I heard Arthur sigh, and after that, he moved away from me.

"I told you we'd go shopping tomorrow for whatever you need. Whatever you don't like about the apartment, you can set aside to have it removed, okay?" he said grudgingly as he sat back down on the leather sofa, took out a cigarette, and put it in his mouth.

"Leave if you don't want me to take your virginity here," he threatened while searching his pockets, perhaps for his lighter.

"I can't believe it!" the other woman said, letting out a laugh. "How come your wife is still a virgin?"

I felt so humiliated by both of them that I couldn't say anything else. I opened the door and left that place, praying for the elevator to arrive faster than usual. If I had to use the emergency stairs, especially feeling the way I did, I might "accidentally" trip down them.

To my good fortune, actually the only one I had that day, the elevator arrived. When I got in, I realized, through tears of anger and disappointment, that neither of them had bothered to close the door. Before the elevator doors closed, I could see how the other woman climbed on top of him while kissing his neck. But the most unpleasant part was realizing that Arthur was looking at me with a cold, emotionless gaze or at least that's how it seemed to me. Then the doors closed, and I didn't see him again.