Just Pretending: Chapter 16

After ten months of marriage, Harley and I fell into a basic routine. Each day started with breakfast together and then we would go our separate ways. She would go teach her yoga class or do whatever it was that she did. And I would go into the office. We had dinner together several times a week, but otherwise, we were more like roommates than a married couple. Roommates who didn’t particularly get along and didn’t particularly do things together, unless it was expected of them.

Harleigh had redecorated the old man’s old bedroom so that when I returned from that first trip after the wedding, I had a freshly painted, newly furnished bedroom.

I could have easily moved furniture from the apartment, but then I wouldn’t have furniture there. Even though I didn’t use the apartment, and had barely stopped in for more than picking a few items up every other month or so, I had been reluctant to get rid of it, knowing that at the end of the year I would need it again. It was an unnecessary expense, but I liked the place. It had a good view.

I moved my clothes into the dressing room. The dressing room was better than a walk-in closet, I needed to have one of those installed at the apartment. I’d lose the second bedroom, but that wasn’t a big deal.

Harleigh couldn’t seem to leave the ensuite bathroom alone. I’d had a late flight the night before and noticed the color of the towels had changed again. They were now brown when previously they had been green. I dried my face and finish getting ready for the day and headed downstairs

“You painted my bathroom again,” I said as soon as I saw her at the kitchen table. “And I have new towels.”

She was cocooned in her fuzzy pink bathrobe, hair sticking out from her typical braid, wrapped around a mug of steaming hot coffee. Even though we had breakfast together, we approached the day very differently. I was always dressed and ready to leave, while Harleigh looked barely awake, and always had breakfast before she got ready for her day’s activities.

“Morning,” I acknowledged Hannah as she slipped a mug of steaming hot coffee in front of me.

“Oh, you noticed?” she asked.

“I noticed every time you change the color of my bathroom Harleigh.”

“Sometimes you notice right away. Sometimes it takes you a day or two to realize something’s different,” she quipped.

“Why do you keep doing this to me? Why does my bathroom change every time I go away on a trip?” I demanded.

“It doesn’t change every time,” she corrected. “Just on the longer trips.”

“Well, you can stop. I’m tired of my bathroom smelling like fresh paint.”

She looked at me like I should know what she was thinking. After ten months of being married, I wasn’t privy to her inner thoughts. I probably would never be privy to what she thought no matter how long we were married.

“I’m going to keep changing the bathroom until you tell me you like it.”

“It’s a bathroom,” I said. “It’s fine the way it is.”

Hannah put a plate full of eggs and bacon in front of me. I nodded and sipped my coffee. Dark roast, scalding hot with two sugars, just the way I liked it.

“You’re going to get new towels until you tell me I found towels in your favorite color.”

“It’s a bathroom Harleigh,” I reminded her.

“I know. I know. It gives me something to do. You should consider it an endearing personality quirk of mine.”

I stared at her over my cup. I suppressed a smile. She was cute when she got frustrated with me.

“If you’re waiting for me to say something. I guess you’re going to have to paint it again next week,” I chuckled.

“Are you out all next week?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Only a few days.”

“Well, if you’re home, the studio is having its annual open house.”

I snapped my fingers. “That reminds me. When I get back, there’s a charity event at the Museum of Antiquities.”

I scanned how she was dressed and shook my head. “You should have enough time to schedule getting a new dress. You’ve been wearing the same thing too often.”

“Excuse me? You keep wearing the same tux. Why can’t I be seen in the same dress?”

I ignored her comments, if she didn’t know why she should get a different dress to be seen in, then I couldn’t explain it.

“Get yourself something new,” I ordered. “I’m giving you plenty of time to have something tailored.”

She sat back and crossed her arms.

“You interrupted me.”

I stared at her. “Continue then,” I said

“I was saying there’s an open house at the yoga studio. I would like you to come and see where I work. I’m always going to events with you, why don’t you come and support me?”

“I don’t know Harleigh.” My schedule is packed full. I didn’t know if I could squeeze in a little meet and greet at a yoga studio. “I’m out of town most of next week.”

“This only happens once a year. And this way you can see what I do,” she almost sounded like she was whining.

“I don’t think I need to come to watch you stretch. It’s not exactly the same as having to network.”

“It’s nothing like having to network because that’s not what my job is. My job is teaching yoga. Your job is schmoozing and making connections with potential clients and supply partners. Why don’t you ever support me? I’m always supporting you.” Her voice pitched, and she started sounding shrill.

“Well,” I started putting my coffee down. “That’s the wife’s job, supporting the husband and his work.”

“What’s the husband’s job then?” she asked tartly

“The husband’s job is to provide and—”

“Bullshit, Devin,” she cut me off. “If we’re gonna pretend we’re married, and I have to pretend to support you at your business events and charity balls. And I have to go to cocktails with the board of directors. Who, by the way, are creepy old men. Then why can’t you come to one little open house event for me? Just one. I haven’t asked anything of you since we got married.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head. Didn’t she realize that getting married was something pretty big she had gotten from me? I hadn’t wanted this any more than she had. “Harleigh, it’s too early in the morning for this. I’ll think about it.”

She crossed her arms, sat back with a harumph, and then glared at me.

“You know you’re kind of cute when you get all indignant like that. You’re like a fluffy, angry little bunny or something. Your nose gets all twitchy and you scrunch your face up and yeah, it’s not intimidating. Not at all,” I chuckled and continued to eat my breakfast, ignoring her.

About halfway through my meal, she shoved her chair back making as much noise as possible, and stormed out of the kitchen. She’s blustered, making sounds without any complete words. The way she got completely flustered, when she was aggravated with me, was quite entertaining.

I stared after her. Turning back. I noticed Hannah was also watching Harleigh. The look she gave me told me that I had done something incredibly wrong.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s not my place to tell you how to treat each other,” she said.

“But what?” I prompted. I knew she was going to give me a piece of her mind.

“That’s not very supportive. And she’s right. You know, I hear more about what’s going on between the two of you than you think. So I know this isn’t a real marriage between the two of you. It’s all pretend. But she pretends to be your wife. But you’d never pretend to be her husband.”

I thought about that as I finished my coffee. What did pretending to be Harleigh’s husband look like? If it wasn’t enough to let her dress in expensive clothes and show her off, what else did it mean?

I shook off the thought. I shouldn’t have to pretend to be Hartley’s husband. I was her husband. And the kind of man I was is what she got as a husband. I finished my breakfast and stood, letting Hannah know that I wouldn’t be home this evening for dinner until late. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I slipped into the back hallway and headed to the library.

Harleigh descended the front stairs dressed in her typical black stretchy clothing. Loose pants and a shirt with a drapey cardigans shawl type thing over everything. From the look on her face, I think she was trying to avoid me.

“I thought you left,” she said.

“No, I’m still here. I’m just getting something.” I pointed in the direction that I was headed.

“Well,” she huffed. “I’ve scheduled an appointment with the dressmaker. Are you happy?”

“I’m as happy as I’ve ever been,” I replied. I shrugged. Until this year I never thought much about being happy. I knew Harleigh’s comment was sarcasm, but it got me thinking. Was I happy, had I ever been? And why was Harleigh so concerned if I was or not?

“A new dress that’ll be great. Would you order a coordinating tie and pocket square? So that we look like we belong together.”

She looked taken aback. “You want to match my dress?” She asked.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. I think we should look like a married couple and make an effort to look coordinated.”

She nodded. “Do you know which Tux you’ll be wearing?”

“No. Why?” I shook my head.

“I could always get you a matching vest if you really wanted to look coordinated. The cut of the Armani would work with a vest.”

I shook my head, vests were not in my fashion vocabulary. “I think a tie and a pocket square will be plenty.”

“Okay, I’ll be the dutiful little wife and make sure you match.”

When she left she still didn’t sound very pleased with me. I picked up the report that I had left the night before and returned to the kitchen.

“Hannah, What was the name of that yoga studio again?” I asked.