[Cordelia]
“Drugged the wine? Why would I do that?” His words stab right through my heart. How could he think so poorly of me?
“After your little sob story about needing an heir, you suddenly end up in my bed?” He barks, harsh laughter springing from his lips. “I’m not a fool, Cordelia. Were you even drunk, or was that an act too?”
“But I didn’t drug you?” I insist, my voice small. “I only had that wine because I took it from your hotel room,” I remind him as I try to remember the day before.
That’s right, this wine came from his hotel room. The room he was in with his secretary…If anyone drugged this wine it must have been her. She was trying to seduce him!
“Atlas,” I jump out of bed holding his shirt closed, “I just realized something about yesterday. Your secretary had…”
“Save it,” he cuts me off as he moves towards the door. “I don’t know why I keep expecting better from you,” he sighs deeply, looking at me in disappointment. “You’re barely more than a child. I should have known better.”
“Atlas, please wait!” I call after him, tears rolling down my cheeks. He doesn’t stop. He just walks through the door and shuts it with a resounding slam.
I fall to my knees and weep into my hands. It was my first time making love and I cannot even remember it.
I just lost my only chance to make things right with Atlas. He is never going to trust me now.
Maybe I should stop trying.
My legs are so stiff from being in the same position for so long that it hurts to unbend my knees. Eventually I make it to standing and stumble down the hallway to my own room.
I don’t feel quite like myself until I am under the soothing heat of my shower. Between getting caught out in the freezing rain, getting drunk and possibly drugged, and then waking up after my first ever sexual experience, there is no part of me that doesn’t feel tender.
The water is now ice cold. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the change until I started to shiver and my muscles began to ache anew.
Stepping out of the shower the world starts spinning. Grabbing onto the towel rack to steady myself, I remember that I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink other than a bottle of wine and a cheap cup of coffee in the last two days.
No wonder I feel so awful.
Wrapping my hair in a towel, I dry off and put on a loose pair of clean sweats before ringing for the maid. “April, I need your help.”
It takes her several minutes to respond. “Yes?”
“Can you please bring food and water up to my rooms?” I ask sweetly, hoping my kindness might warm her to me. I know she doesn’t like me, but that doesn’t mean I cannot be polite to her. “I never had dinner and…”
“I do not see how your irresponsibility is my concern,” she grumbles, interrupting me. “I have many other chores to attend and so you will need to fetch your own food,” she pauses, adding, “Miss,” at the end as if she had forgotten she was speaking to the lady of the house.
She hangs up abruptly and I am left staring at the intercom. Sighing deeply, I stand and open the door to my room.
When I get into the main hallway my head is fuzzy and I am more than a little bit dizzy. Suddenly the stairs seem impossibly far away and I know I need to make it all the way down them to get what I need.
I make it a few steps before I find myself gasping for air. Stumbling to a nearby sofa, I find myself sinking into the cushions.
______
“Oh Cordy,” a kind voice says, waking me. I am unable to open my eyes, they feel so heavy. “You have a fever. What did you do to yourself?”
“Who are you?” I barely manage to mumble because my mouth is so dry, “Atlas?”
“Wow, you are really out of it today, aren’t you?” He helps me stand and I finally recognize my savior by his easygoing manner. “Clark? What are you doing here?”
“I just returned from overseas. And since I haven’t seen his stupid face in about 4 years, I was hoping to find my brother so we could catch up over dinner,” he laughs. “How come you’re sleeping on the couch when you have a perfectly good bed just a few feet away?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Is it still morning?”
“Dear gods, you’ve been out there all day! And nobody bothered to check on you?”
I try to shake my head in response but I stumble. Seeing me struggle to remain standing, he scoops me into his arms and gently places me in my bed.
“I needed water,” I am barely able to croak, my lips cracked and parched with dehydration. “And food and...”
“There,” he lays me down, still hovering above me, his kind eye smiling. “That’s better. Now wait here.”
He leaves. I must have fallen asleep again because I didn't see him reenter the room. I watch patiently as he sets down a bowl of soup, a piece of bread, and a large cup of water.
“Sorry that took so long,” he apologizes, his hand rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “I don’t really cook much and I couldn’t find April.”
“It’s fine,” I croak as I bend over to reach the water that is just out of reach.
“Oh God!,” he exclaims. “Shoot, here, let me help you!” He holds the water to my mouth as I take a few sips. The water feels so good going down my parched throat that I moan.
The door clicks open behind us.
“Clark!” Atlas barks. “What are you doing in my wife’s room?”
[Atlas]My body betrayed my heart last night. I’m disgusted at how quickly I forgot about Angelica while in the arms of her little sister. Yet I cannot get Cordelia out of my mind. When I close my eyes, my thoughts wander to the way she smells, the way she tastes, or the feeling of her soft, smooth flesh underneath my fingertips.I left work a little bit early today so I could talk to her about what had happened and clear the air between us. But as I pull up into the driveway I see a rental car. Who could be here in the middle of the day?The house is quiet except for some soft sounds I hear coming from Cordelia’s room. Moving swiftly, I make it to her door just in time to find her in the arms of my brother, Clark. He was supposed to call me when he got here, but instead, he rushed right over to see her. My vision goes red. “Clark!” I shout. “What are you doing in my wife’s room?”“I am doing what you should have been doing,” Turning towards me Clark stands up straighter, “I’m taking
[Cordelia] I was surprised this morning by breakfast in bed and a cheery smile. “Good morning, Madam,” April is in her full maid uniform today, including her nice dress and apron, even her hair styled in a neat little bun. “If it pleases you I have brought you breakfast.” If it pleases me? Something isn’t quite right about her today. “Th…ank you,” I say hesitantly. “Are we expecting company?” Maybe that is why she is dressed so fine and practicing her manners. “A foreign dignitary, perhaps? The President?” “No, Madam. It is just the two of us today.” A large smile stretches across her face as she glances out the window into the garden. “It is a beautiful day. I hear it is good to get a little exercise as you recover from being ill. When you are done with breakfast, might I suggest a walk in the garden?” “I’m not sure it is a good idea,” I say honestly. Even though I am feeling so much better with more energy, there is something about April’s behavior that is making m
[Atlas] Cordelia pushes past us as she rushes up the stairs. A few seconds later I hear the sound of her door slamming. I could tell that Sydney’s presence was causing her pain. Maybe I should go upstairs and apologize but I was feeling petty after our argument this morning. Sydney coughs. For a moment I had forgotten the guest I invited over that I hadn’t meant to invite over. “I’m sorry you had to see that. My wife and I…” how do I phrase this without giving too much away. “she can be a bit…well dramatic.” I settle on a word. It doesn’t feel fair, but it also fits. Sydney shrugs as if none of it matters. “Um…where should I put this,” she indicates my oversized suitcase. I ask her to set it down near the stairs and I notice that she has a slight limp. Cordelia must have pushed her down harder than I thought. “Hey, wait,” I stop her before she can reach the stairs. Taking the suitcase from her, I bring over a nearby chair and instruct her to sit while I take the suitcase an
[Cordelia–earlier this evening] He doesn’t believe me. He can’t even see me. And he thinks this is all my fault. Watching Atlas speaking with his secretary in hushed tones as turns his back on me reminds me of the scene from the other day in the cafe. All the small, tender touches between them, are so different from how he treats me. Even right now, his hand is on the small of her back protectively as he pulls the suitcase across the threshold. I watch the scene unfold, helpless to do anything. Here I am again, the fool, watching him love another like a stranger in my own relationship. Only now he is bringing her into our home, flaunting his relationship right under my nose. My world is spinning. With blurry eyes I rush past them on the stairs, heading to my room. I slam the door behind me and land with a crash on my bed. The mumble of their voices in the entryway below just confirms what I already knew. “He doesn’t love me and he never will,” I mumble into my pillow. “Fo
[Atlas] A letter from Cordelia’s lawyer arrived two days later requesting that I schedule a day for us to meet and go over the terms of our divorce. When she left that stormy night, I never thought she’d seriously go through with it. I expected her to come crawling back the next day, wet and resigned. She never learned how to take care of herself alone. She moved from her parents' house directly into mine. She’s never had to do anything for herself. When her lawyer’s aide dropped this letter off at my office he was swift and kind. It has all been handled in such a mature and professional manner I find myself glowing in pride for how much Cordelia has grown. I guess she grew up while I wasn’t watching. Eventually, I’m going to need to call her lawyer. Set up an appointment to speak with Cordelia. Maybe even convince her to not go through with this divorce. But not today. Today I am finally finalizing the deal with Bryant Textiles. The letter has been on my desk for a week
[Cordelia] After I hung up with my lawyer, I wasn’t sure where I should go. I couldn’t go to my parents, they would just send me straight back here to “fix” things. I didn’t really have any friends…my whole adult life has been tied up in being the wife of Atlas Steele. When I got married at the age of 20, I dropped out of school. The only person who had ever made any effort to stay connected was my old college roommate Tilly. I almost didn’t call her, I was worried that my troubles would just be a burden, but when she answered, she was overjoyed to hear from me and immediately invited me to meet her for drinks and catch up. We hit it off immediately and it was like we had never been separated. When I told her about my marriage and the disaster it had become, she offered me her spare room. She didn’t want rent or anything for it. The only price she asked of me was to “use this place to heal–and start designing again!” Because Tilly had grown up to become Mathilda Madison, de
[Cordelia] “I’m surprised to see you here.” Sydney’s reflection takes up most of the mirror. Her face is twisted into a small, mysterious smile. She is holding a full glass of champagne in her finely manicured hands as she circles me. Everything about her glows–her hair, her gown, the points on her stiletto shoes. “Do you like my outfit?” she takes a sip of her champagne before adding “Atlas bought it for me. I didn’t need him to, of course, but he does like to spoil me.” “Um hmm,” I murmur, “Excuse me, I…” She puts her empty hand down on the counter, blocking me in. “He’s very generous,” she takes a moment to gently caress the jade necklace that graces her neck like the kisses of a lover, “but I’m sure you already know that.” The way she hits that last word, like an accusation, tells me that she knows it isn’t true. Seeing the hurt in my eyes, she digs deeper. “You should have seen him this week. I was so proud of him. We have been working late nights all year. He looked s
[Sydney–Earlier that Evening] “What about this one?” I twirl in front of a mirror. Atlas is standing to the side, speaking with the shop attendant. He looks up from his phone briefly, giving a weak thumbs up. Sighing, I go back into the dressing room, shaking my head at his inattentiveness. To be fair he didn’t ask to be here, but after his last-minute invitation, I guilted him into giving me a ride. Making a decision, I picked the dress that got the most reaction from Atlas, a gold lame ensemble dripping with crystals and gold sequins. As I go up to the counter to pay, I realize I must have forgotten my credit card at home. “Oh shoot,” I swear, turning to the shopkeeper. “Can you just put this on hold for me? Last name, Bryant.” “What’s wrong,” hearing my distress Atlas puts down his phone. “Don’t you need that dress for tonight?” “I forgot my card at the office,” I sigh, showing him the inside of my empty wallet. “Not a problem,” he pulls a platinum card from his inside co