God I Hate that Man

My aunt wouldn’t understand any of it. She’d just tell me to let it go, but it’s not that easy. I can’t just let it go when my own father thinks my job is worthless. God, I’m such a textbook case. Daddy doesn’t love me enough so I choose to work with kids who get no love, so I can feel all warm and fuzzy about myself and maybe find some validation somewhere else.

I shake my head. Where the fuck did that come from? It’s almost like Finn is in my head. I shake this thought away too. It’s not Finn’s voice, it’s mine and I just need to get the hell over myself.

Now I’m here… at Finn’s apartment, I feel like maybe I’ve overstepped the mark a little bit. I mean is it normal to turn up at a virtual stranger’s home and ask to crash there? But then again, is it normal to come to a stranger’s office and ask them to marry you for money? Nothing about the arrangement Finn and I have is exactly conventional.

So…

The more I think about it, the more it actually seems like I’m in the right place. Most people don’t wait until after they’re married to live together, anyway. Maybe this will help with the ruse, because right now, I still haven’t told anyone about the wedding. I just can’t figure out how to make the story sound even remotely convincing. I’m just not the kind of girl who meets someone and has the fairy tale romance that ends in a wedding after just a month.

No one who knows me is going to believe that’s what happened. I push away my worries; they’re the same old worries I’ve had since I agreed to this and I haven’t come up with a solution to them yet, and I don’t think I ever will. Instead of worrying, I look around the guestroom.

I don’t imagine Finn has many guests staying overnight here, at least not the kind that don’t share his bed, and yet the guestroom is set up perfectly as though he’s always expecting an overnight guest.

The bed is a massive king, covered with a soft looking, thick duvet with a pristine white cover on it. The sheets and pillowcases are pure white too. Dang, I’m almost afraid to sit down on it in case I get it dirty. There are bedside cabinets on either side of the bed, a matching wardrobe and chest of drawers. In the corner of the room beside the chest of drawers is a small black leather armchair, positioned to give the best view of the balcony and the city beyond it.

There is so much glass in this apartment that it feels almost like I’m outside. Every room has a stunning view and I spend a moment just standing in the center of the room, looking out over the twinkling lights of the city. I know I should find this kind of lifestyle obscene, but I don’t.

I can understand why Finn wants to live somewhere like this. I can understand why anyone would. Searching for an apartment of my own really brought that home to me. I might have lost a lot of the materialistic side of my nature, but I still don’t want to live in a shithole apartment, in the sort of place where the hallways smell of urine and people are shooting up on the staircases. Maybe that makes me a hypocrite, but I’m not ashamed of not wanting to live in squalor.

I push my duffel bag off my shoulder and begin to unpack my things. I haven’t brought a lot. It wouldn’t have been much even if I had brought everything I owned. I hang up my clothes. I have brought three work outfits and two non-work outfits. A handful of underwear, some toiletries, and that’s pretty much it.

I wander through to the attached bathroom with my toiletry bag and my jaw drops. This is no little en-suite, although why I thought it would be, I don’t know. The room is bigger than my bedroom in my old apartment with a lovely big bathtub and a large shower. It’s all cream with fawn accents. I instantly fall in love with how light, bright and airy it looks. I place my toiletries on the marble countertop beside the sink, noting how sad they look in this luxurious room.

I go back to the bedroom and strip off, folding my clothes then laying them on the arm chair. It’s only then I realize I haven’t brought any pajamas or a night dress. I could sleep naked, but what if I want a glass of water or something in the night and I run into Finn?

I throw my clothes back on with a sigh and head out of the room. I can hear Finn’s voice drifting out of his office and I know better than to go to him and ask him if he has something I can wear. Instead, I go to the linen closet, hoping to maybe find something I can wear in there, like a spare robe or something. The closet is filled with towels and sheets, duvet covers and pillowcases. There’s even a spare duvet and a bag full of spare pillows.