Love-Hate Relationship

Chapter Four

Sasha looked at herself in the mirror, unable to believe that in less than an hour she would be saying "I do" to her teenage boyfriend. Even if he didn’t know she loved him, even if he knew he was gay, she still couldn't help wanting to rush to that island and shout to the world that she did. She sighed, remembering that he had never called to ask how she was doing. He had never visited her; that day she tried on the dress was the last day she saw him.

Maybe things would change after tonight; maybe he would finally start to notice her after their vows. She shouldn’t forget that she was taking a huge risk marrying him—what woman marries a man who is gay? He should be grateful; at least it was because of her that his secret would remain hidden. Could it be that he agreed to marry her because he knew she was aware of his preference for men and wanted her to keep it a secret? But if so, how did he know she would agree?

Her train of thought was interrupted when Vanessa and Angelica entered the room. There was pure love and adoration in both their eyes—one a crystal blue and the other gray. Sasha found herself wishing she could see an ounce of that in her husband’s gaze. Just a little bit of emotion. Now that she thought about it, there was absolutely nothing she knew about him.

She knew he was a self-made billionaire, mostly due to his father’s wealth, but he still went out and made something of himself. Many malls, clubs, and companies were under his name, yet he always remained invisible to the public eye, rarely attending interviews. Inviting him to a party wasn’t easy, and even after managing to do so, you still had to worry about whether he would actually show up, which he often didn’t. That was why she didn’t see him much; he was some sort of ghost billionaire. She knew he owned so much, but she couldn’t pinpoint what belonged to him.

"You look beautiful," Vanessa praised while Angelica smiled proudly and approached her, helping her put on the veil as Vanessa handed her a small box. She opened it to see a diamond necklace worth millions of dollars. She swallowed and looked at her, "Let me help you," she offered, taking the box from her before helping her put it on.

Sasha turned and looked in the mirror; her neck suddenly felt like that of a duchess or even a queen. She looked exquisite. "Thank you," she murmured and smiled.

"Your car is here; are you ready?" her mother asked, and she nodded. The two women helped her into the waiting car, and she waved goodbye before they got into another one. The car began to move, and she found herself lost in thought again. Last month, she had still been telling her mother she would marry when the time was right, and now here she was, marrying not just any man but Michael Brown.

She smiled and took a deep breath; this was a gigantic step she was taking into a new phase of her life that could ruin her or make her the happiest woman in the world. She decided to vote for the happiest, but then that voice asked again, "Are you sure?" She thought about how he always acted indifferent when she was around. They were about to get married, and they had only met twice—once when they were introduced and again when he took her to the mall to try on her dress. The third time would be today.

Her mother had called her back when she wanted to ask what she wanted at home; they wouldn’t go on a honeymoon because Michael said he had a contract he was working on and couldn’t afford to be absent, although he promised to take her on a honeymoon once he finished the business deal. And yes, she hadn’t heard it from him personally; her mother had passed along the message.

She sighed. Maybe after tonight, there wouldn’t be so much silence between them anymore. "Yes, I hope," the voice said again, and she dismissed it. Her marriage would be perfect, even if her husband loved men; it would only take a moment to influence his preference, for when she showed him what women could offer.

They arrived at the church, and the door opened. Her father was by her side in an instant, ready to escort her inside. Nicholas couldn’t help but praise his daughter for how magnificent she looked. He walked her down the aisle to where her future husband was already waiting. He looked so handsome in the white suit he was wearing, his hair perfectly slicked back and shining as if it were wet. His crystal blue eyes followed her until she stood by his side; that was the most he had looked at her—she didn’t even realize it.

His cologne wafted into her nostrils, and she felt her mind spinning. How could he smell so good? She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, but her mind was fixated on the priest, who was busy reading their vows.

"I do," she said.

"I do," he said too.

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride to seal this vow," the priest said.

Sasha held her breath as he looked at her and revealed his face. Was she really having her first kiss with him? She thought. He lowered his head to hers and took her lips in a brief kiss. The audience applauded, and they both exited with family and friends to take some photos before heading to the wedding reception.

Everything went according to plan. She danced with her now-husband and also with some of his business partners or friends—she couldn’t even tell who. He didn’t introduce her to a single person. She danced with her father-in-law and her father. The party was great. Later, some friends accompanied them home to continue drinking there.

Some left later, but his partners stayed. He was discussing some important matters with them that she felt had nothing to do with her. She decided to go upstairs and prepare for him. She entered her room and was captivated. Her mother-in-law sure knew how to set up a bedroom. She also got her a vanity that had everything she needed, including her facial cream. Was that why she had asked about all those things? she thought.

She opened the wardrobe, and as she expected, there was a small bag packed for her. She unzipped it and took it out before entering the bathroom with the bag. Looking in the mirror, Sasha smiled and bit her lower lip seductively. She grabbed the makeup remover she had brought to the bathroom to clean her makeup.

Michael would be done any moment and would come straight to the room, so she had to hurry and dress seductively for him. Damn, she still couldn’t believe it—she, Sasha, was married to Michael, the number one beauty in school? Damn, this felt so much like a dream.

She turned on the hot water and stepped into the bathtub. After relaxing for a while, she jumped up, grabbed the lavender-scented liquid soap, and poured it into the water. She lay back in the tub and closed her eyes, inhaling the sweet and sexy fragrance.

As she closed her eyes, her thoughts went wild. Why did he suddenly agree to marry her? Was he hiding his preference for men from his family? It was possible, of course—how could he tell them he was gay? Her mother would have a heart attack.

Well, it didn’t matter if he was hiding it or not; what mattered now was that she was his wife. She smiled at that thought. Sasha Brown. She smiled again and got out of the bathtub before turning on the shower to rinse off her body. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her chest as she stepped out of the tub. She grabbed another towel to dry her hair while standing in front of the mirror.

She couldn’t predict what would happen that night—if he would touch her or not—but whatever it was, she would be glad if she fell asleep in his arms, inhaling that sweet scent of his that could drive her crazy from having to stand and sit by his side all day.

She pulled out a black lingerie set from the bag she had taken to the bathroom and put it on. She also applied deodorant and perfume. She brushed her hair and then applied her facial cream, looking at her side profile in the mirror and smiling. She was beautiful; she knew it. That’s why guys found it hard to let her go, but it wasn’t fulfilling since she couldn’t attract the hottest guy in school, Michael Brown.

All that has changed now—she is his wife, and she will do everything in her power to make him see the goodness in women. She smiled at that thought before giving herself one last look in the mirror and nodding, satisfied with what she saw, before stepping out of the bathroom into the bedroom.

Shocked to see her husband in the bedroom, sitting on the stool with his laptop on the desk, she gasped. When did he come in? Well, it doesn't matter; he’s here now. She stood at the bathroom door and stared at him, wanting to know if he would look at her, but he seemed so absorbed in whatever he was typing on his laptop. She pouted and walked to her vanity, sitting down and pretending to brush her hair while watching him through the mirror. Damn, his back is impressive, she thought, wondering how he would look without his shirt.

She saw him save his file and turn off the laptop. It's time, she thought, turning to look at him. He was now facing her too, legs crossed, his black hair flat and shiny as if he’d just stepped out of the shower. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, his crystal blue eyes burning into hers, and his lips—oh, sweet and sexy—were pressed into a thin line. She found it hard to stop staring at him, and the sound of him clearing his throat snapped her out of her daydream.

He smiled faintly, and as his lips curved upward, Sasha felt her heart beating faster. "I think you’re done and relaxed," his deep, sensational voice pierced through her thoughts.

She stared at him and nodded slightly, and he nodded back as well. "Good. Of course, I want what I’m about to say to sink in deeply," he paused for a moment. "Being my wife comes with a few rules, and as long as you follow them, we won’t have any problems."

Rules? Marriage rules? Since when did that become a thing? Sasha thought, but now she couldn’t question it.

"Three rules: Don’t talk to me. Don’t touch me. Stay out of my business."

Sasha’s eyes widened in shock. What would marriage be like without those things? How could she be married to him if she wasn’t allowed to speak to him? Not allowed to touch him? Forget about the business; she could handle that, but the other two?

Michael stared at her wide-eyed expression without uttering another word. Once he was sure his words had sunk in, he stood up and walked to the bathroom, leaving her staring blankly at the empty space in shock.

She watched him as he came out of the bathroom, water droplets on his body, a towel wrapped around his waist. He entered his walk-in closet, and she didn’t even realize he was in there when he went in. After three minutes, he came out and headed straight to the bed. He lay down on his side of the bed and turned off the bedside lamp.

Sasha sat, watching him. Is this real? What has she gotten herself into? What kind of marriage would this be? She couldn’t think of all the possibilities and slowly walked over to the bed. She lay down on her side and stared at him. He seemed to have fallen asleep the moment his head touched the pillow, and she couldn’t believe any of it. She extended her hand to touch him but froze in the air when his second rule echoed in her mind, "Don’t touch me." She swallowed and slowly lowered her hand, turned her back to him, and turned off the lamp, praying that the night would be just a dream.