Chapter 5
1554 Words
Things changed after the cemetery.
Not big changes. Small ones. Xwein started saying "good morning" when he saw me in the kitchen. He started looking at me when I brought his coffee. He started sitting closer to me in the car.
Little things.
But I noticed every single one.
I told myself not to notice. I told myself he was my boss. My contract husband. Nothing more.
But my heart did not listen to what my brain said.
---
Three days after the cemetery, something happened.
It was a Thursday. Rainy. Cold. I was sitting at my tiny desk, typing emails. My phone rang. A number I did not know.
I answered anyway.
"Hello?"
"Frix? Is this Frix?"
The voice was male. Young. Familiar. But I could not place it.
"Yes. Who is this?"
"It's Leo. Leo from college. We had chemistry together."
Leo. I remembered him. Tall. Smiled a lot. Helped me pass a class I was failing. We were friends. Not close friends. But friends.
"Leo? Wow. How did you get my number?"
"I called your old work number. Your mom gave it to me. I hope that's okay."
My mom gave him my number? I made a mental note to talk to her about that.
"What's going on, Leo? It's been two years."
"I know. I'm sorry. I moved away for a job. But I'm back in town now. And I was wondering… maybe we could get coffee? Catch up?"
I looked at Xwein's closed office door.
"Um. I don't know. Things are kind of complicated right now."
"Coffee is not complicated, Frix. Just coffee. Old friends. One hour."
I thought about it. I had not talked to anyone except Xwein and my mother in weeks. I was lonely. So lonely.
"Okay," I said. "Saturday. 2 PM. The coffee shop on Main Street."
"Perfect. See you then."
He hung up.
I sat there for a moment, smiling. A real friend. Someone from my old life. Someone who did not know about the contract or the debt or Xwein.
It felt good.
---
At 12:15, I brought Xwein his coffee.
Black. No sugar.
He took the cup and looked at me. "You're smiling."
"I am?"
"You are. Why?"
"An old friend called. I'm going to see him on Saturday."
Xwein's hand stopped moving. The coffee cup froze halfway to his mouth.
"Him?" Xwein said.
"Yes. Him. Leo. We were in college together."
"Where are you meeting him?"
"A coffee shop. On Main Street."
"No."
I blinked. "No? What do you mean, no?"
"I mean no. You're not going."
"Xwein, it's just coffee. He's an old friend."
"He's a man."
"Yes. He's a man. A friend. That's all."
Xwein put his coffee cup down. His jaw was tight. His eyes were dark. Darker than usual.
"You are Mrs. Smith," he said. "You cannot go have coffee with another man."
"It's not another man. It's a friend. And I'm not really Mrs. Smith. I'm a contract wife. Remember?"
He stood up from his desk. He walked around and stood in front of me. Close. Too close.
"You wear my ring," he said. "You live in my house. You sleep under my roof. You are my wife. To the world, to the board, to everyone who matters. You cannot go have coffee with another man."
My heart was beating fast. But I was also angry.
"You don't own me, Xwein."
"The contract says—"
"The contract says I have to pretend to be your wife. It doesn't say I can't have friends. It doesn't say I can't talk to people. It doesn't say I have to be alone in that big house every night while you hide in your office."
He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Saturday. 2 PM. You're not going."
"Watch me," I said.
I turned and walked out of his office.
I sat at my tiny desk with my hands shaking.
My contract husband just told me I could not see a friend.
And I just told him to watch me.
I did not know who was more shocked. Him or me.
---
The rest of the day was cold.
Xwein did not come out of his office. He did not call me for anything. He did not even look at me when I walked past his door.
At 5 PM, I went to the elevator alone.
The driver took me home alone.
I ate dinner alone. Marta made pasta. But Xwein's plate was empty. He did not come down.
I sat at the big table with twenty chairs and ate by myself.
The house felt colder than ever.
---
At 10 PM, I heard a knock on my door.
I opened it. Xwein stood there. He was not wearing a suit. Just black pants and a white shirt. His hair was messy. His eyes were red. Like he had not slept. Or like he had been drinking.
I did not know which.
"We need to talk," he said.
"Then talk."
He walked into my room without asking. He sat on the edge of my bed. I stayed by the door.
"Frix," he said. "I'm sorry."
I blinked. "What?"
"I said I'm sorry. I should not have yelled at you."
"You didn't yell. You gave orders. Like I'm an employee."
"You're not an employee."
"Then what am I?"
He looked at me. His dark eyes were tired. Sad. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I don't know what you are to me. And that scares me."
I walked closer. I sat on the bed. Not next to him. Far enough away that we were not touching.
"What scares you about it?" I asked.
"Because I don't get scared," he said. "I don't feel things. I make plans. I make deals. I win. That's what I do. But you… you make me feel things I don't understand."
"Like what?"
"Like I don't want you to leave. Like I don't want you to see other men. Like I want to lock you in this house so no one else can look at you."
My heart stopped.
"Xwein… that's not healthy."
"I know."
"That's possessive. That's scary."
"I know."
"That's not love. That's control."
He looked at me. "I never said it was love. I don't know what love is. No one ever taught me."
I thought about his parents. Always traveling. Always working. His grandfather. Dead. His mother. Dead.
He was alone.
He had always been alone.
"Xwein," I said softly. "I'm not going to leave. I signed a contract. One year. I'm here for one year. You don't have to lock me in."
"That's not enough."
"What's not enough?"
"One year. It's not enough."
I looked at him. His face was open. Raw. The wall was gone. The crack had become a hole.
"What are you saying?" I whispered.
He stood up. "I don't know what I'm saying. I don't know anything anymore. Just… don't go on Saturday. Please."
Please.
He said please.
Xwein Smith. The coldest man I knew. Said please.
"Leo is just a friend," I said. "I'm lonely, Xwein. I have no one. My mother thinks I live in an apartment. My father thinks I got a promotion. I have no friends here. No one to talk to. Just you. And you hide in your office or your room most of the time."
He was quiet for a long time.
Then he said, "Then talk to me."
"What?"
"When you're lonely. Talk to me. I'll stop hiding. I'll come to dinner. I'll sit with you. Just… don't go to him."
"Why does it bother you so much?"
He walked to the door. He put his hand on the frame. He did not turn around.
"Because I'm afraid," he said. "Afraid that if you remember what normal life is like… you won't want to come back to this one."
He walked out.
I sat on my bed.
My heart was pounding.
He was afraid.
Xwein Smith was afraid of losing me.
Not the contract wife. Not the business partner. Me.
Frix.
The poor girl with three hundred dollars.
I looked at the ring on my finger.
His mother's ring.
And for the first time, I wondered if this marriage was ever just a contract to him.
---
Friday morning, I made a decision.
I walked into the kitchen. Xwein was there. He looked up when I came in. His eyes were nervous.
"I'll cancel Saturday," I said.
His whole body relaxed. "Thank you."
"I'm not doing it for you," I said. "I'm doing it because you said please. And because you said you would stop hiding."
"I will."
"Then prove it. Come to dinner tonight. Sit with me. Talk to me. Like normal people."
He nodded. "Okay."
"And Xwein?"
"Yes?"
"If you ever try to control me like that again… I will leave. Contract or no contract. I will find a way. Do you understand?"
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he said, "I understand."
I made my coffee. I sat across from him.
And for the first time, we had breakfast together.
Not as boss and employee.
Not as contract husband and wife.
But as two people who were both scared and both trying.
It was not perfect.
But it was a start.
- Writer
