The Marriage Sacrifice

“I know you’re pissed.”

“This is a little more than pissed.” She stood up, brushing some of the dirt off her apron.

“Come on, Sage. Give me a chance here. You don’t think I tried to get our engagement ended?”

She sighed. “Not hard enough. I’ve tried talking to my dad, but he’s always the same. I’m a woman. I need to be taken care of. You promised me you’d handle this. He will listen to you. You don’t want to be married to me, and I certainly don’t want to be married to you.”

“Why not?”

“Have you met you?”

“That’s unfair.”

“No, that’s life. Come on, Dom, what is really going on here? Why are you here?”

“I want us to be friends. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.” He gave her a look to which she relented. “No. It’s not that hard.” She and Dom had never been close, but that didn’t mean he wanted to go out of her way to make her life miserable. “Okay, fine. You don’t want to make my life miserable and I don’t want to make yours. I take it my dad sent you all of the details of where I like to volunteer and hang out?”

“You know about that?”

“Kind of hard not to know. I took his PI out for dinner and told him everything. I don’t like to be stalked and to have someone come and know my business.” She shrugged. “Dad thinks doing everything covertly makes him a cool dad.”

“Well, I’ve got the entire schedule of where you’ll always be.”

“Yay. So you now know that I like to volunteer at the retirement center.”

“I’ve got to wonder why. Especially gardening?” Dom asked, pointing at her work.

“I like gardening. It’s not always easy, but when you get it all right and you see it all in bloom, it looks beautiful. I think everyone deserves to see a little beauty, don’t you?”

“I do.”

She smiled at him. “Don’t sound so shocked. One day you’ll be in a retirement home and waiting for someone like me or someone else to come and do this. The people here are great. Most of them have had an amazing life, and why not spend time with them? They’re cool, and they make me laugh. I like them.”

“Do any of them know you’re probably one of the richest women in the city?”

“They don’t need to know who my parents are. I’m not the rich one, Dom. They are.” She shrugged.

His watch started to beep. “It’s lunchtime.”

“You time when lunch is?”

“I have to. I often forget it, and it is an important meal of the day. Especially when you’re in the office and you’ve got people waiting for food. Tempers are running high. A break for lunch is always a good idea.”

“When I go corporate, I’ll be sure to remember that.”

“You do so.”

She glanced around the garden. Everyone would be sitting down to lunch.

“Come on.” She reached out, taking his arm and having him follow her. “I’m only working half a day today here.”

“Do you get paid?”

“No. I like to volunteer, and today I took care of the garden.” She entered the retirement home, and as she knew, the coast was clear. If she brought in a man, there would be a lot of questions, and she didn’t want to get into the whole reason as to why she wasn’t Dom’s biggest fan right now.

“Wait here,” she said, entering the staffroom. She put her apron for the laundry, washed her hands, and quickly re-pinned her hair so it was off her red face. Yes, she noticed her face looked red from the sun, but there wasn’t exactly a lot she could do about that.

Grabbing her bag, she made her way outside to find Dom looking at all the leaflets and stuff.

“You ready?” she asked.

“As I’ll ever be. Do you need to tell someone you’re leaving?”

“It’s not a prison, Dom. I can come and go as I please.”

“Oh, right. Yes.”

She couldn’t help but giggle.

Dom took her hand as they left the main retirement home and were heading toward the gate. She tried to pull away from his touch, but he kept a good hold on her.

“Don’t think too much into it.”

“Right. The image.” This was why she had avoided spending time with Dom. Everything had to do with image, of making sure that any cameras watching them would always capture the perfect shot.

She was never one to work it for the camera, and the mere thought of doing that now didn’t appeal to her, not even a little bit. She held the strap of her bag as they walked down the main street.

The scent of baked potatoes hit her in the face.

“How about we eat over there?” she asked. “I’ve got my lunch and if you want, you could eat a baked potato. They can put anything on them. They are so good.”