Chapter 2
668 Words
The very next day, Tristan called me into his office.
For once, he closed the door and lowered his voice. "Were you upset yesterday? Marina, let me explain, please."
I lifted my eyes to meet his. A flicker of guilt passed through them.
"Seraphina is the one who saved my mother's life. My mother has always wanted us to be together, but I never agreed. She's gravely ill now, though, and I have to do what makes her happy."
He started to reach for my hand, then glanced at the office door and pulled back. He let out a sigh. "Marina, I've given you all of my love. Isn't that enough? She only has a piece of paper."
All of his love.
Was it the hand that let go of mine the second anyone walked by? Or the steps that always outpaced me whenever we were in public?
I shook my head and asked, my voice trembling, "What if I want a piece of paper too?"
Tristan took off his glasses, his eyes turning cold. "Marina, don't be difficult, all right? We've been together like this for six years. Why is it suddenly not enough? Sera's a socialite heiress. I've gotta let her save face in front of everyone."
So it was fine to treat me however he liked in front of everyone. He knew the thing I feared most was being made into a joke, into a freak. And yet, at a wedding with a thousand guests, he had let me become the target of every cruel eye, just to save her face.
Suddenly I had nothing left to say. I turned, opened his office door, and walked out.
That afternoon, Tristan came down to the department floor. "You've all been working hard. Let me treat everyone to afternoon tea, the popular patisserie downstairs. How does that sound?"
The room cheered. Then he added, "Marina, come help me carry it back."
Whether it was bubble tea, desserts, or restaurant meals, anything I happened to want, Tristan would always invite the entire office along. What I wanted had never been a perk handed out by a supervisor. What I wanted was for him to choose me. And I had never gotten that.
While we waited in line at the patisserie, he stood two feet away from me. "I shouldn't have said what I said this morning. Let me buy you something sweet to make up for it. You've always been so understanding. Why can't you understand me this one time?"
How was I supposed to understand. Was I supposed to understand my boyfriend of six years suddenly becoming someone else's husband?
I said nothing, my eyes fixed on a glob of cream that had fallen onto the floor.
When it was finally our turn, Tristan's phone rang. Seraphina's voice came through the speaker. "Tris, can you come help me pick out an outfit?"
He hung up and walked off without another word. But the desserts were already boxed and waiting, an order for the entire department, far too much for one person to carry. I tried to call a coworker, but the people behind me in line were already grumbling at me to move. So I picked the boxes up the best I could and took a few unsteady steps forward.
Then came a loud thud. My foot landed in that smear of cream, and I went down hard. Desserts spilled across the floor in a sticky mess.
I was struggling to get up when the people around me started pointing.
"That's terrifying. Why is she completely white?"
"She looks like a white-haired freak."
"Sweetheart, don't look. Don't let the monster scare you," one mother said, covering her child's eyes.
My hand flew to my head, and I realized my wig had been ripped off and flung about three feet away. It landed right at Tristan's feet.
He stopped. He turned, and his eyes met mine, mine pleading for help.
Then he lifted his foot and walked away.
- Writer
