The Accidental Marriage: Chapter 31

I glance at my phone screen. Since telling me that he needed to work late, Ares hasn’t texted me or anything. Did I sound too cold in my response? I want to be a considerate wife, so I sent him a reply full of cheer, even though I was a little disappointed that he was busy—again.

I look at the colors starting to fill the canvas. Unlike my previous work, the shades are mostly dark wood tones with green and blue. The last is an exact match for Ares’s eyes. He doesn’t like his eyes, but I adore them. I’ve spent so much time making them perfect in the portrait.

The phone buzzes.

–Lucie: Wanna join me and Yuna for an evening get-together? Our husbands are out of town, and the kids are with their grandparents. Just us adults. I know it’s last minute, so if you’re busy, that’s fine.

–Me: Actually, I don’t have anything to do—and my husband’s working late. So let’s do it!

–Lucie: Awesome! Here’s my address.

I get out of the smock and change into a clean shirt and jeans, then ask Javier to drive me to her house. It’s a stunning mansion, sprawled out like a sleepy giant. The garden is massive, and there’s a greenhouse full of lush flowers. Lucie greets me at the front entrance, the double doors large enough to serve as a gate to a medieval castle. The foyer boasts a high cathedral ceiling with a surprisingly delicate chandelier.

“Thanks for inviting me. I love your greenhouse,” I say as Lucie leads me past two kitchens. She’s dressed casually in a round-neck T-shirt and stretchy cropped pants.

“Seb decided to build one because I was studying ‘flower language’ for the Korean market. He said it’d be inspirational.”

“Which was faster? The greenhouse or your mastering the language?” I ask.

“The greenhouse. The man can make things happen when he’s determined.” Lucie’s eyes grow dreamy. It’s clear she’s crazy in love with her husband.

Good for her. But my happiness for her doesn’t quite soothe the ache from realizing that the kind of mutual affection she has with her husband won’t be mine.

Don’t think too much about it. You’re just infatuated. After you’re divorced, you’re going to find the other half of your soul.

“He had to be like the Terminator, or he would’ve lost you back then,” Yuna says, then waves. “So glad you could join us!” Her auburn hair falls over her delicate shoulders, and she’s in a red sundress that looks amazing against her creamy skin.

“Do you like Korean food?” Lucie asks. “I should’ve checked before I invited you, but I got distracted. If you aren’t into it, we can grab sandwiches or salads or whatever. Or we can do Mexican.”

“No, I can do Korean,” I say, not wanting to be a bother. I’ve never tried it, but why not? As long as somebody’s willing to taste the food first.

“Thank God. Mom totally overpacked.” Yuna rolls her eyes a little, but her big smile glows with affection. “My mom’s visiting to see the grandkids, and of course she had to bring her chefs with her. They cooked all sorts of stuff. When I told her I was visiting Lucie, she packed a bunch of things, saying we never eat enough when we get together.”

“Not true. I feed my friends well,” Lucie says, leaning toward me.

“According to my mom, unless I’m a butterball who has to be rolled home, I’m ‘starving.’” Yuna turns to me. “But if I gain weight, she’ll ask why I’m letting myself go.”

I giggle. I can just imagine the scene. “Difficult standards to meet.”

“But I still love her. What can I say?” Yuna shrugs with a big grin. “Besides, she thinks all my friends are like her own kids. So if you ever meet my mom and she starts to mother you, just nod and go along with it.”

I smile at the lovely picture Yuna’s presenting. She sounds a little abashed, but I think it’s sweet of her mother to care for her friends, too. It isn’t something I experienced—or even thought possible—while living in Nesovia under Doris’s guardianship. Even when she was doing her best to fake being nice, it wasn’t convincing.

We head to the dining room. I relax a little when I see a family-style spread on the table. Some glass noodles, stir-fried beef, some sort of rice and veggies wrapped in seaweed, pickled vegetables and soups, all with tongs and ladles for serving.

“Are there more people coming?” I ask.

“No, just us three. Mom thinks we can eat all of it by ourselves.” Yuna shakes her head as she pours chilled chardonnay for everyone.

“Wow. But okay. It smells amazing.”

“Tastes better,” Lucie says.

I wait for Yuna and Lucie to grab theirs first, then serve myself to ensure I don’t take anything nobody wants. Thankfully, they get a little bit of everything.

I wait for them to take bites then eat. I’ve never had Korean food, but it’s quite good—lots of flavor, with a good balance of sweet and salty. The noodles are to die for, so chewy and tasty. “Your mom’s chefs are angels.”

“They probably sold their souls,” Yuna says with a contented sigh and a sip of wine. “I almost feel bad for my dad because he has to eat the backup chefs’ cooking. They aren’t bad, but just not as good as the ones Mom brought here. But what can he do? He loves her, so he let her do what she wants. He says whoever loves more loses in a relationship.”

Her father’s observation hits me like a brick in the face. I never considered it from that angle, but is that why I’m feeling…restless? I’m falling for Ares and he doesn’t want me at all?

“That’s so cynical,” Lucie complains. “If you keep saying things like that, it’s going to kill my jewelry design mojo.”

“You don’t design them, you run the company that sells them,” Yuna says. “Besides, it’s true, isn’t it? He lets her take the best chefs. If he didn’t love her, he wouldn’t.”

“So if you stay, you know, indifferent…” I say, then try to push more noodles into my mouth to hide my trepidation. Half the forkful drops on my plate, but hopefully Yuna and Lucie will chalk it up to my unfamiliarity with glass noodles, not nerves.

“Then nothing.” Yuna shrugs. “I mean… I guess they’ll eventually seek the companionship and love they aren’t getting from their spouses from someone else. There are plenty of marriages like that in Korea. Of course, you have to be extra cautious and discreet, because getting caught is embarrassing. There’s a big difference between loving somebody who isn’t your spouse and getting exposed for it.”

“Good God. If you’re going to do that, why stay married?” Lucie says with disgust.

“Family alliances? Money? Power? Convenience? Needing a socially acceptable spouse to present?” Yuna shrugs again. “Could be anything.”

I say nothing, but my heart seems to turn to lead because it sounds just like my marriage with Ares. He was so clear on what he’s getting out of the marriage—his promotion. And he knows I’m getting control over my money. Does it bother him that our marriage is so transactional? Is that why he’s been a little distant recently?

I grab more noodles, then notice a François sculpture set in a protective case bolted into the nook. “Is that an original?” I ask, hoping to turn the conversation away from love and marriage.

Lucie immediately brightens. “Yes. My favorite. And my prize. It used to be in the living room, but I had to move it here. Harder to reach. The case is shatterproof and bulletproof.”

“Did somebody try to steal it?” I ask in shock. “This area’s safe, isn’t it?”

“Very, and nobody has tried to rob me. It’s just that I have a young child, and she has no respect for art.”

“Ah.”

“Kids never do,” Yuna laments. “They’re like puppies, but slower to mature and train. I’m skipping the auction this year because Liam almost destroyed a painting I bought for Declan for Christmas.”

“Oh no.” Lucie shakes her head. “That’s why I already commissioned a special case to store the one I’m planning to buy next week.” She turns to me. “Are you going?”

“I’m…not sure. I didn’t even know about this auction. What do they have?” The idea is intriguing. I’ve seen movies with exciting auctions, but I’ve never been to one.

“Some really interesting pieces. And you can go to the exhibition before actually buying anything. I thought you might like to because they’re going to have a few of your mother’s paintings up for sale. Apparently, a couple of them have never been seen by the public before.”

Mom’s work is being sold? “Really? My mother’s art? Since when?”

Lucie looks at Yuna. “I don’t know. Over the past ten years or so? But your mom’s paintings are actively sold at auctions.”

I grind my teeth. I had no idea, and nobody was going to inform me of anything in Nesovia.

The sales are likely Doris’s doing. Based on our increasingly hostile relationship, she must’ve figured she needed a backup plan in case she couldn’t get me to marry Rupert. The next best thing would be to sell all the antiques and paintings that aren’t part of my trust behind my back. That would give her money she could hide from me.

Guess nobody told her that those items belong to me, and it’s an act of theft to dispose of them without my permission.

Is this why Doris tried to get me to sign the agreement, giving her ownership rights to my “trash”? She’ll try to dispute who owns what, tying everything up for years. After all, it’ll be all hearsay, and she can get Vernon and Rupert to testify I threw those things away. And my public eccentricity would work against me in court.

Greedy, greedy bitch.

“I want those paintings, but I want to see them first.” I want to make sure they’re really works that my mother left for me before I report Doris for theft and sue her. There’s a miniscule possibility Mom gave some to Doris.

“It might get pretty pricey if you plan to buy them all,” Lucie says. “I’ve heard rumors that there will be about five pieces, and your mother became very popular recently. I think the latest work was auctioned for almost two million, and it was a fairly small painting.”

So if all five were sold for the same price, that’d be ten million. Not a terrible amount of money for Doris and her family. Not as nice as sixty billion, but not bad—although terrible for me, since they’re pieces of my mother’s legacy.

The stress of dealing with my relatives’ greed is suddenly crushing, weighing me down until my shoulders bow. I want to bury my face in my lap and close my eyes and pretend the world doesn’t exist.

“What’s wrong?” Yuna asks.

“You want your mother’s paintings,” Lucie says.

I nod, a hand still covering my face.

Lucie lets out a sympathetic noise. “And let me guess—the trust is still tied up?”

I nod again.

“Well, it’s an easy problem to fix. Just get your husband to buy them for you.” Yuna pats my back gently. “After all, his money is your money.”

“No…” His money is definitely not my money. Ethan’s almost done with our prenup. He said it was taking a while because my assets are extensive and he wants to be thorough. But I’ve read an earlier draft. According to the agreement, anything bought belongs to whichever spouse that financed the purchase, unless it’s designated as a gift from the very beginning and documented as such.

Which I suppose means I won’t be taking anything from the studio, either. But that’s okay, since the portrait’s a gift for Ares. My mom’s paintings, though…

“Oh, come on. If you think he’s going to object to the amount, just rub him like a genie.” Yuna waggles her eyebrows. “Unlike the usual cheapo genies who only let you rub them three times, your man will give you what you want every time you rub. Hehehe.”

“Exactly. Works like a charm.” Lucie giggles. “And you can add some kisses for better results.” She purses her lips and makes a kissing sound.

I give them a wan smile. Easy for them to say, since their husbands are apparently crazy about them. Mine is…well…

Mine is complicated.

That night, I stay up until Ares comes home at one. He raises his eyebrows when he sees me.

“Hi,” I say. “I was waiting for you to come home.”

He smells of alcohol and something smoky. Not cigarettes. Cigars? Was he at a business dinner and had to return to the office? I press my lips to contain the questions. They aren’t as critical as what I want to say.

“Did you need something?” he asks. “You should’ve texted.”

“You said you were working late. I didn’t want to bother you, since it sounded important.”

He hesitates for a moment, then lets out a soft sigh and nods. “My fault. I should’ve made it clear that it’s no bother. Nothing is more important than you.”

Sweetness starts to shiver through me, until shock flares in his eyes. Suddenly I realize he didn’t mean to put it that way. He probably regrets it now.

Sudden resentment surges. I hate it that he’s confusing me, telling me he wants respectful indifference, but then acting all caring…and regretting it. I think of all the things he’s done for me without my having to ask. Is he sorry he did them?

But right now, I don’t want to talk about it. That’s not why I stayed up, and I have a feeling that if I broach the topic we’ll end up arguing.

“There’s an art auction next week. I want to go,” I say. “Not sure about the protocol for something like that in a marriage like ours, but I’d prefer to go with you. But if you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

He stares at me as though I just slapped him. Then he runs a hand over his face. “Of course we’ll go together.”

“It’s okay if you’re busy—”

The muscles in his jaw bunch. “I’ll go with you.”