Blue had never dreamed of being married at eighteen. She’d managed to cook dinner for them a handful of times, with the help of online recipes. Though she hadn’t eaten much at all after her weeklong battle with food poisoning post-hotel food crash diet. She’d changed their sheets on her own. Washed and hung the laundry with the help of Vincent’s housekeepers. Shaved the man. Washed the dishes. Rearranged the bedroom to her liking, more from boredom than anything. Managed to shower once a day for almost an entire week.
Vincent, on the other hand, seemed to make no adjustments. He woke up at six-thirty in the morning like clockwork, no alarm needed. Rolled over and placed a quick kiss on Blue’s shoulder, who always turned onto her side in her sleep. Trudged into the kitchen where he made bedroom eyes at his beloved espresso machine while he waited for it to turn on.
He would let Blue sleep until seven, after which he’d gently wake her. He’d brush his teeth whi
Blue broke away. Hastily, she wiped at her lips and stepped around the corner with her arms out — Vincent watched with a small, half-hidden smirk of amusement… She was too caught up in pretending she wasn’t about to be finger-fucked that she failed to notice just how out of character it was for her to hug her mother. “Blue?” with stiff arms, she folded her daughter into an embrace, awfully careful not to mess up her hair. “I didn’t even know you were — when did you get here?” “The bus just got here,” She wasn’t lying — it was something she had become good at; telling the truth without telling the truth. “I’m lucky Vincent was coming in, the doorbell wasn’t working for me,” With a drop of the placid smile Marian had surprisingly managed, she turned to the man. “A business call again? Do you not understand the point of a Sunday?” “Insurance is a busy field; people are dying every day,” “Where’s the food?
Blue hadn’t said much at all since she had chosen her station on the window ledge, ignoring the couch only two steps to her left that would have made just as much of a seat. Of course, she’d given a cursory thank you when Vincent had presented her with a steaming green tea and had forced a laugh when he attempted a joke about how the hard surface would flatten her arse yet failed to move from the jungle of skyscrapers that offered little-to-no entertainment. Truthfully, never in her life had she wanted the world to swallow her up more. A feeling with which she was ever more familiar. Yet lady fate had been ever the more cruel. She had rolled her ankle in her rush to escape, forced to sit strapped to an ice pack. She had spilt a fraction of her tea on the brand-new dress she had resolved never to wear again given such a horrid day, yet adored, nonetheless. She had neglected to eat lunch and now felt far too sick to eat anything and, to top it all off, had seven misse
This time, Vincent took careful pause. Before she could grab ahold of his wrists and stop him, he was rising to his feet, pacing from her, tucking in the barstool he had been seated in only moments before as though he was searching for something to busy himself with — he was. “How long?” “My birthday.” Nervously, she wrung her hands in her lap. She’d imagined the conversation countless times over. He’d frown at her like he never had. Slap her, though this time not because she’d asked him to. Tell her to end the pregnancy. Scowl. Spit at her. Storm out. She’d be homeless. All at her own doing. “I have two pills in my tray from the day before and the day of,” Suddenly, the man’s shoulders shook. Her heart sunk. Was he crying? She stood rather unsteadily, making a slow approach. She knew what she would say as she did. She’d tell him he wouldn’t owe her anything if they divorced. She’d sleep with Richard, even at the price of her own s
The first thing Blue did when she woke up was roll over. And after that, she shot from the bed of knotted sheets and shook Vincent awake. It was a Monday morning, and two hours since they’d have left for breakfast — yet she lay beside him unshowered. Still wearing her pyjamas. It was the first time she’d slept a full night in days she couldn’t count. “Have you forgotten about your job?” Watching her husband grumble and bury his face in the nested pillows, she finally felt how he had waking her each morning. He turned after moments too long. Met the woman’s gaze with bleary eyes. Freshly shaven. He had already been up. “I’m working from home today, now come back to bed, won’t you?” “Why?” She watched as he pushed his fingers into his eyes with some sense of annoyance. Fought the urge to slap him. “Am I not allowed to spend the day with my wife, Mrs Carmichael?” “Don’t call me that.” She watched with a rather pointed stare as h
“I’ve been thinking; what if Richard had the right idea buying you a car?” Blue glanced over her shoulder from the couch as the man spoke. It had quickly become her spot. He’d cook her dinner despite the fact he had worked all day. Massage her feet as they sat on the couch and waited for the oven. Refill the tea she’d finally finished after letting it steep for an hour or two and turn completely cold. Gently smile as he slipped a hand beneath her skirt. Wrap an arm around her shoulders and tug her into his chest. Make her wish so dearly he’d call the housekeeper to finish the meal so she could lure him into their bedroom… He was pushing around two steaks in the frying pan, just as he had been for five minutes. Staring at the back of the woman’s head, he couldn’t help but consider what she had thought as she stared at the television rather aimlessly. He’d watched another man leave countless gifts at his wife’s doorstep that week. A car. A diamond necklace. Some simpl
Blue felt rather whorish dressing as she had now that she was expecting. She’d worried the stomach that seemed to swell and disappear at mere minute intervals would show in a tight dress. That some passing woman would smell the pregnancy on her and critique her liberal choice of dress. The cleavage she’d eagerly paraded. The amount of thigh she’d presented the world. So, she’d worn a sweater. A rather old pair of jeans she needed a hair elastic to fasten shut. An ensemble far too warm for the New York summer. Yet comforting, nonetheless. Private in a way she so recently hadn’t been afforded.She’d tried to be early. A grave mistake. She’d convinced herself she’d awkwardly walk in, and the applicant representative would already be sitting there. He had tried to be early, too. He’d watch her as she made her approach. Fiddled with her hands because she didn’t know what to do with them. Stumbled on her own feet. Bounced
The man who once sickened her so had long since become the itch she’d learned to ignore. Sitting stiffly, Richard groping at her thigh as though he was feeling up a supermarket apple for any bruises, Blue found she had bigger concerns. She wasn’t cheating—despite the fact she was on a date with another man. Yet she felt there was a reason she hadn’t told him. Worried it would bother him. Vincent wouldn’t approve of it… with good reason. Of course, he had no idea the man had forced himself on his wife alone in some public restroom. Or seemed to mastermind the whole engagement. Looked so plain and yet had the glint of a registered offender in his stare. She had decided not to tell him. She’d dodge any photo opportunities. Politely excuse herself before anyone worth any notice spotted her. Hurry home as though her husband would be waiting. She’d curl around the pillow as she had the night before, pretend she was holding some being close despite the fact
Somehow, Vincent had managed to escape the benefit earlier than Blue. As she slammed the front door shut behind herself and kicked her shoes off with an air of frustration no one could ever triumph, she came face to face with a man, yet again, lurking in the shadows. Sitting on the couch, in the dark, head hung, interlocked hands in between his knees and gaze sharp as he finally lifted his eyes to her own, even she couldn’t be any more dramatic if she tried. Against all instinct, Blue couldn’t help but surrender to the pull that ordered her into silence. Couldn’t fit in a snide remark to cushion her pride. Froze in place as their eyes met. “Why were you there?” “Why were you there?” “I can’t tell you that,” “And I can’t tell you, either.” “Then I guess we have an understanding,” Suddenly, she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. &