Marriage For One

A few seconds passed where neither one of us spoke. I placed the book in my hand on the third shelf and picked another one up from the floor. “Jack?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t have a—never mind. I’ll be there at six.”

“Okay. I’ll be ready.” I hesitated for a moment, not sure if it was my place to ask. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course. I’ll see you at six. Goodbye, Rose.”

“Okay. Go—”

And the line went dead.

It was going to be a long night for sure.

When Sally left around five-thirty after sitting around and chatting with me, I went straight back to the kitchen to get ready. Since my wardrobe didn’t include a dress fancy enough to go with one of Jack’s expensive suits, I had gone out and looked for something I could wear that wouldn’t look too cheap while I was standing next to him. I didn’t want a painful repeat of the day we got married. Thankfully, I’d found something in the second store I rushed into when I headed out on my lunch break.

It was as simple as a black dress could get. It was made of a thin material, the name of which I had no idea whatsoever, and had short sleeves. It hugged my hourglass body lightly from what I could see after craning my neck to the left and right in the dressing room, and it ended about six or seven inches above my knee. The front V was a bit deeper than I was accustomed to, but it wasn’t bad enough to look for something else. More importantly, since it wasn’t exactly a winter dress, it was on sale. I didn’t have the time to search every store in the city for just the right thing. I tried it, it fit, so I bought it. It was also a bit pricier than I would normally pay for a dress, not a luxury brand or anything like that, but again, I was going for a look that wouldn’t make me feel extremely cheap next to Jack. So, I accepted that this specific look came with a price tag.

I was able to get ready in twenty minutes and had even managed to turn my light makeup into something more suitable for evening. In other words, a whole lot of concealer was covering the dark circles under my eyes, and my cheeks were touched with a little blush—quite a bit, actually. Checking the time, I rushed through my eyes by applying a little black pencil along my lash line and smudging it with my finger until it resembled something smoky and acceptable instead of a complete mess. Just as I was done applying mascara, my phone pinged with a new message.

Jack: Open the door.

I snorted; my husband had such a way with words. I looked at myself in the mirror we had on the inside of the little bathroom in the back. Smoothing my dress and trying to tame my boobs, which looked bigger because of the deep V, I inspected my makeup closer. I didn’t look like a complete hot mess, which meant I looked okay. “Shit!” I exclaimed, noticing I’d completely forgotten about my hair. I had braided it two hours earlier so I could have something that resembled a wavy look, so I tore off the hair tie at the end and started to unwind the strands in a hurry. Before I could finish, my phone started to go off.

I ran back to the counter, and after confirming it was Jack, I ran to the door, my hands in my hair, trying to tame it down and mess it up at the same time. It was a very special look.

Stopping next to the door, I ran my hands through my bangs for the last time, unlocked the door, threw it wide open and ran away before he could get a good look at me.

“We’ve been waiting for you outside. You’re late,” Jack said as soon as he stepped inside.

“You’re five minutes early,” I countered over my shoulder without looking back as I kept running straight back to the kitchen to put my jacket on. After tying the thin belt around my waist, I grabbed my handbag and rushed back to Jack. “I’m ready,” I mumbled, a little out of breath. My eyes were down as I was struggling to open the front zipper on my bag so I could throw my phone in. When it was done and I finally looked up, all the white noise coming from the city outside my door seemed to disappear. I couldn’t think of anything intelligible to say.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

My favorite curse word was the only thing that came to my mind, and I didn’t think it would be appropriate to say out loud in this situation.