I force myself up. I can't keep wallowing. I have to live my own life. Yes, it’s not one I’d pick for myself, but I can learn to make the proverbial lemonade from lemons.
I pad to the bathroom. In the mirror, I see the same girl I've always been but somehow, different. More knowing. More determined.I knew this wouldn't be easy, I tell my reflection as I brush my teeth. The marriage was arranged, after all. A business transaction. The fact that I'm developing real feelings for him wasn't part of the deal.
But watching him struggle with his guilt tears at my heart. I want to tell him it's okay to move forward, that loving again doesn't diminish what he had with Meghan. Yet every time I see him in passing, his eyes skitter away from mine like he can't bear to look at me.
So I do what I promised. I give him space. I run the house, I do my art alone while I wait for a new art teacher, and I see my friends when I can. I don’t demand anything from Ash. It’s a full life. The most difficult part is the way he avoids me and the night time alone in our bed. It’s not the physical touch I miss, although I can’t deny it would be nice. I wish he’d let me in, to trust that I can handle his darkness and help him find the light, that he can love and be loved again.
As usual, I dress for the day and head downstairs where Antonio has my coffee waiting.
"Would you like your breakfast in the sunroom, Mrs. Ifrinn?" Antonio asks, but I shake my head.
"The kitchen is fine." I've given up pretending we're a normal couple who share meals.
I fill my mornings with house management duties, reviewing menus, arranging schedules, coordinating staff. None of it takes much time nor needs this level of attention, but it keeps me busy, keeps me from dwelling on the cold emptiness of my marriage, of my life.
Sometimes, I catch glimpses of Ash as he comes and goes. He moves like a shadow through the house, careful to avoid crossing my path. When we do accidentally meet, his jaw tightens and he mutters a gruff greeting before disappearing again.
I tell myself this is what he needs. That night we shared was beautiful and devastating for him. I won't push, won't demand more than he can give. Even if every fiber of my being yearns to break down his walls.
I pour myself into my art, into charity work, into anything that fills the hours. I'm determined to do what’s expected of me. Manage the household, maintain appearances, support our families’ goals. I watched my mother do it.
Today, I decide to see if I can’t help get my father on track. If I have to live this shell of a life, the least he can do is live up to his part of the bargain.
I pull up to my parents' sprawling home. I grew up here, and as a child, I have happy memories. It wasn’t until I was a teenager that I understood how different my family was and how my life wasn’t ever going to be my own.
Two of Dad's men nod at me from their posts near the entrance. Normally, I’d walk right in, but it’s not my home anymore, so I knock and Mrs. Beasly answers with a practiced smile. She guides me back to the sunroom where my mother is having breakfast.
"Hannah! What a lovely surprise,” my mother greets me. “Alice, can you get Hannah some coffee?”
"Where's Dad?"
"Meeting with some associates." She pushes over a plate of toast toward me. "Is everything alright with Ash?"
I sit down and take the coffee from Alice. It will help to learn what sort of mood my father is in before I confront him. "That's partly why I'm here. I need to understand what's really happening with the Keans. Why is Dad hesitating to help Ash?"
She stills. "What makes you think?—”
"Please don't treat me like a child anymore. I'm married now. Married as a tool in this fight. I deserve to know what’s going on."
Mom sighs. "You know the risks your father takes. He just wants to make sure his family is safe.”
“You mean him? Because he’s sold me off?—”
“We didn’t sell you.” Her eyes glare with indignation.
“Really? Then what was paying off Dad’s debts about? Why was I forced to marry a man who—” I stop myself, not wanting to give my mother any reason to use Ash’s behavior as another reason to renege on their deal.
Her eyes narrow. “Who what?”
“Who is feeling duped.”
“You should be careful that you don’t talk to your father like that.”
“Like what?” Dad chooses that moment to walk in. "Hannah.”
“Hello, Dad.” I tilt my chin up as he leans down to give me a kiss.
“I take it this isn’t a social call?” he says as Alice hands him a cup of coffee.
