House
1482 Words
Nicholas' voice shattered the fragile glass bubble that had surrounded Soohie and Stephen, isolating them from the world.
Stephen, stretched as he was across the small table of the nook, was caught in the worst position any man in his place could be in.
Flustered, he yanked his hand away from Sophie's cheek and tripped over his own feet to get out of the booth.
The skin Stephen's knuckles had touched felt like a pumice stone had been passed over it a dozen times under Nicholas' scrutiny.
The Blumenthal turned from his fiancée to the human male.
His tone was anything but friendly as he asked, "Stephen, correct?"
"Yes," he tacked on quickly, "sir."
"I'm sure you have more important things to attend to than fraternizing with another man's woman..."
A sudden surge of annoyance snapped Sophie out of her atypical silence.
"I am not your woman," she spat, rising out of her seat and stepping out of the nook.
Nicholas may not have meant it in an insulting way, but what Sophie heard were Stephen's words reconstructed and thrown back in her face.
She did not want to be Nicholas' woman, but that stubborn insecurity that she was not even good enough to be his woman was not a pleasant feeling either.
"Stand down, Sophonisba," Nicholas growled, but his gaze, still fixed on Stephen, made it clear she was not the target of his anger.
The dismissal after the previous one in the dining room had her puffing her chest in indignation.
"Leave," she commanded Stephen.
The brunette looked startled. His lips parted in what would have been a mounting argument if she didn't snap another 'leave,' with a narrow of her eyes that promised hell if she was met with backtalk.
Finally, Stephen left, and the couple were finally alone.
"I'm not your damn dog, Blumenthal. Don't you ever order me to be quiet again." She hissed at him.
Nicholas ignored her, too consumed by righteous anger of his own.
"What in Goddess' name are you thinking? Cuddling up to a man under your damn fiancé's roof?"
She rolled her eyes and turned away, done with the conversation but knowing it would never be that easy. "It was just a chat; it didn't mean anything..."
"Of course it f*****g did." He grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. It was more of a cradle that would be loving in different circumstances but a firm one nonetheless.
"You're not in Glengrove anymore, Sophonisba. Here a man's worth and strength are measured by how he commands the world around him and takes charge of his household, ergo you. Making heart eyes at an ex? You might as well cut off my balls and keep them on a damn keychain for all to see."
She snorted at the image, and when he gave her an unimpressed look, it caused her to crack and burst into giggles.
His lips twitched with a smile he did not allow to break, and he let go of her chin, confident she wouldn't look away.
"I know it's different, stepping into a world so different and structured, but I need you to try," he pleaded. "My world is a lot harsher on women, and married women are held to a much higher standard, more so you who is human."
She hated hearing that. It had Stephen's words ringing like a siren's call in her head, reminding her of how incapable she was of fulfilling that role.
"I don't think I can be that perfect woman," she confessed, frowning softly.
Nicholas let his smile go then and shook his head. "No one is. You just fake it till you trick yourselves and the rest of the world you are."
"I'll stay away from Stephen." She promised softly.
Blue eyes softened. "And I will make it easier for you. We are leaving."
Her brows jumped in surprise. "Your dad's letting you."
He frowned at the word 'letting' but did not correct her.
"At the risk of me challenging him again and causing unrest in the family, he sees it as the best option for us all."
"Well, I think it's fantastic! When are we leaving?"
"Today. I do not have a traditional house ready, but I suppose the penthouse on Fullerton Avenue will do for the time.
She sighed dramatically and fanned at her cheeks as she lamented, "I suppose I will have to make do with the penthouse."
Nathan huffed, turned on his heel, and walked away. However, he wasn't quick enough to hide the amused twitch of his lips from her.
Sophie teased him about it all the way back to their bedroom, her cheerful voice ringing out in the solemn halls of Alpha Dathan Blumenthal of Hill End's home.
There was no grand farewell when they left.
No tearful goodbyes or pleas to stay and work things out.
Just the gentle fall of snow as Nicholas loaded the last of their luggage into the trunk and sped away from the only home he had ever known.
The sun had set soon after they set off, yet the city seemed to come to life, blinding lights glowing in the dark of the night.
The lights dimmed the stars, Sophie noted, suddenly realizing she would never again live in a place where the stars were but a clumsy rooftop climb away.
Finally they arrived at one of the many towering skyscrapers that would be their home for a while.
The car sorted and their things in hand, they strolled through the lobby and made their way into the elevator that was thankfully empty.
"Our condo is on the hundredth floor." Nicholas informed her with an excited smile and a stare.
She glanced away from the glowing elevator buttons to stare up at him."What does it mean?"
His lips curled in a smile, confirming her suspicion that he was hoping she would ask.
"Perfection, completeness, totality. In many cultures around the world, the number one hundred represents abundance and success. All things I have made my life mission to achieve."
Sophie hummed, nodding her head because she had nothing to say to that.
To her the number hundred was just that, a number. But she would soon be his wife in a world where his beliefs were expected to be her religion.
As the light switched from '99' to '100,' Sophie frowned, suddenly hating the once unimportant number.
The elevator doors slid open with a ding, and the couple stepped through into the start of their life together.
High ceilings, sleek decor, and furniture—it looked like something out of a showroom because it was.
She would be living in a soulless bachelor pad for as long as it took for Nicholas to find them a house.
"Hopefully not too long," she muttered with a look at the half-lion, half-man painting hanging in the open-floor living room.
"Pardon?" Nicholas looked away from bringing their luggage in."I asked if I could do some decorating."
He joined her at the edge of the living room, looking around with a confused frown."What's wrong with it as is?"
"It's Spartan luxury, Nicholas, if that's even a thing," she muttered thoughtfully, then shook her head to get back on track. "You can’t expect me to be comfortable in this bachelor daydream.”
“Only for a few days, maybe weeks. Then I'll get us a house that you can paint every color of the damn rainbow and then some. Okay?”
She turned to him with a small frown and froze when she saw the fondness in his eyes.
“Okay.” The redhead agreed with a distracted nod, mesmerized by every shade of blue in his irises.
If they were in love, he would lean down and kiss her parted lips.
Nicholas swayed towards her, compelled to close the distance. But suddenly he pulled back, cleared his throat, and tugged at his collar as if it, rather than he, was responsible for his near lapse in control.
"Order dinner for us, will you?" He asked, grabbing hold of their luggage, and headed for the hallways on the left.
She took out her phone to do so, happy to move on from the bizarre moment. "What'd you have in mind?"
"Italian." He called out.
"How's pizza from Big Slice?” We have it down in Glengrove, and their cheesy meat lover's deep dish is to die for."
Nicholas turned to fix her with a look so disgusted you'd think she offered him dung on a plate.
Devoid of the strength to convince him to indulge, she ordered pasta with creamy Alfredo sauce and a garlic bread that wasn't quite as delicious as Big Slice's garlic knots.
That night they went to sleep in his king-size bed with two pillows placed along the middle and a budding cordiality that neither were aware of.
- Writer
