Chapter Four

I don't wait around for dinner when we get home. With the monstrosity of a wedding dress, I shuffle up the stairs, escaping to the haven of my room. Thankfully, the car ride home had been quiet, each of us way too busy trying to process what had just happened. I reach the landing at the top of the stairs and open the door of the first room to the left, my room, breathing in the smell of security and comfort as I enter. I hear Auntie call out something from downstairs but I don't bother listening. With a note of finality, I shut the door behind me.

The room is mostly bare save for my bed, a table set, an empty wardrobe and a few clothes in the duffel bag I had brought from my apartment. Since moving out years ago, I hardly sleep over when I come visiting. Of course, I'm still welcome to sleepover whenever I choose to but I'd rather not. Too bad I'm here now. And with a Mrs title attached to my name. I let my hands fall to my sides and my shoulders sag in exhaustion. It's still hard to process that I am married. How the hell did I get here? I reach behind me for the zip of my dress but I can't even get it. With frustration, I twist myself into various unfavourable positions before I finally feel the little zipper between my fingers. With as much annoyance as I feel, I drag it down, parting the fabrics on either sides of it and feeling a sense of relief wash over me as my bare skin finally kisses air again. Groaning, I ease myself out of the fashion trap.

 I pull on a pair of grey sweatpants and a black sweater and settle into the desk of my room. That's when I finally allow the weight of the panic that has been sitting heavy in my chest rise. I'm trapped. I'm literally trapped and to what end?. The tears prickle my eyes and right there on my desk, I place my head in my hands and cry my heart out. If only mum hadn't died, I wouldn't be indebted to Aunt Ellie in the first place. I have to do everything I can to pay back the money within a year. That way, as soon as Camilla turns 18 next year, I can whisk her out of this place without looking back. Nothing would be tying us down to here anymore. That's the last thought that crosses my mind as I fall asleep, the sun setting behind me.

I awake to the sound of a knock on my door. Auntie's voice rings out.

"Vanessa?". She knocks again. "Vanessa?? Can I come in?".

I don't reply her. I blink away the last dregs of sleep from my eyes and look out the window. It's pitch black outside. I glance at the time on the screen of my old wall clock and see that it's 8:34. I'd slept for almost two hours. I stretch out on my seat with Auntie's knock still sounding on the door and reach for the power button of my old computer, turning it on. It powers to life at the same time that I hear Aunt Ellie's footsteps go down the stairs. I don't care about seeing her face anytime soon. I sit up straighter in my seat and click on the internet icon, pausing with my fingers hovering over the keyboard as I ponder on what to type. His name is Mr. De Luca but what's his first name? What business does he even own?

I give in and type just "De Luca business" and just like magic, the results come alive on my screen. De Luca Enterprise, owned by Damien De Luca. Damien, that's the name. It's a huge business venture with two major sub-branches that specialize in the business of perfumery and men couture, ranging from three piece suits to designer shoes. I click on images and his picture comes out, larger than life. He's pictured in an office, sporting one of those expensive suits again, an elegant amber coloured perfume bottle captured beside him. He has that same intense, haughty look on his face and anyone who looks at the picture can see how well he fits into his surroundings, almost as if he was born for this business. I scroll through a couple more pictures and then go back to the news, clicking on an article where he was apparently named one of the top five youngest billionaires by Forbes. Even though, I tell myself I shouldn't, I still go ahead to type in his dating history, justifying it with the excuse that I need to know the man I'm married to. 

If promiscuous was a person, t'd definitely be this one. Every image presents him with different women. Every month brings forth new dating rumours. What have I gotten myself into?

I sigh and lean back on the seat, thoughts whirring through my head. Exactly how hard will I have to work to pay off this debt? I'm still thinking of that when a knock sounds on my door again. It has to be Auntie, so I don't answer. It's a small surprise when I hear Camilla's voice.

"Ness?". She calls out and knocks softly again. "Ness, are you there? You have a visitor". 

A visitor? I'm not expecting anyone. I get to my feet and walk to the door, opening it to reveal my younger sister, still dressed in her bridesmaid's outfit. Her eyes are wide. 

"You have a visitor, Ness". She repeats.

"Who is it?". I ask, brows furrowed in confusion.

She hesitates a little. "You might want to come down and see for yourself".

That gets me even more curious. I come out and follow her down the stairs, my bare feet padding against the carpet softly. I receive the shock of my life when I walk into the sitting room. Standing there at the doorway, still dressed in the suit I had seen him in earlier is Damien De Luca.