The first evening with Ophelia in my home didn’t quite go as planned, though I wasn’t sure what I had anticipated.
It wasn’t like at the restaurant where our conversations were of few words. She wanted to talk.
Maybe I hadn’t thought enough about what it would be like having her live with me. It had been an instantaneous assumption.
We get engaged equals she moves in.
Just the thought of the media hunting her down to her tiny apartment incensed me. I would not allow her to go around as if she were poor. She was going to have the finest things, no longer suffering to make ends meet.
That f*****g made me sound like I was attempting to be a white knight, when it was anything but. I didn’t doubt my decision based on attraction. I’d pined for her for nearly a year, something I’d never in m
