by Annie Jocoby
He smirked, but said nothing. He was learning to ignore my snark, much to my dismay.
Finally, our names were called. I took a deep breath, willing my feet to go towards the door. Nottingham grabbed my hand, as my other hand reached into my purse for my black sweater. I pulled the sweater over my head, and we approached the bench.
I felt sick as the judge matter-of-factly asked us questions. He asked each of us if we took one another as our lawfully wedded spouse. Both of us said “I do.” I tried very hard not to puke on the floor after I said these two words. The two words that were going to irrevocably change my life. I was strangely calm, though, having come to terms with this unholy arrangement and having done my grieving beforehand. Plus, I had an entire pot cookie right before I got to the courthouse, so I was pretty out of it. The judge apparently didn’t know this, however, because he would have had to stop the ceremony if he did. One couldn’t be incoherent with a mind-altering substance and be married.
Short, sweet – the ceremony was over before I really knew what was happening. The judge pronounced us husband and wife, and we both thanked him and left. As I walked out of the courtroom, I looked at the next couple in line. They were sitting closely together, holding hands and giggling. They both looked giddy. Young and idealistic, like how I felt when Luke asked me to marry him. They had their whole lives ahead of them, and I was so jealous of them I wanted to die.
That should be me. I should be with Luke, giggling and holding hands and joking around. I should have a face that was completely lit up, and a man next to me whom I adore. My entire life should be ahead of me, filled with love and support and lots of great sex. It wasn’t fair.
It just wasn’t fair.
Chapter 11
Luke
It was the day of my premiere. I was beside myself with absolute worry. Panic, even. I was going to be meeting all of these important people, and I really didn’t know what I was going to say to any of them. I was just happy that I was finally able to get motivated enough to actually make an appearance and kiss the ring, as Jake had put it. My heart said not to go, but my head said that I had to. I had to if I wanted to make my show a success.
My brain had to overrule my heart every time. After all, this was what had worked for my entire life. This was what I had dreamed about ever since I was a little boy. I dreamed about this moment in time, when everybody would be coming to see my work. When people finally started to notice me. I composed my art for myself, of course, but I really also wanted others to share in it. It wasn’t selfish to want this kind of an opportunity. It was necessary. Without financial backing and attention, I would always toil in obscurity and, let’s face it, probably would have ended up back in Maine with my pop. I still would paint, draw and sculpt, of course, but it would have been merely a hobby for me.
But this show would be my way of actually making a living doing what I loved. There could be nothing better in the world than to be able to do that. To have people pay money for the privilege of having my paintings on their wall – that was something that I never thought would happen anytime soon. But, tonight, it would be.
Of course, I tried to put Dalilah out of my mind, just for the one night. It had been almost a month since she pulled the rug out from under me, and I had been wallowing ever since. I still hung out with Jake, of course, but I didn’t go to the poker games. I was as good as my word with him – I needed to lay off the games until I got my head together, because I literally couldn’t afford to play as badly as I was. But, other than my nights out with Jake, and my shifts at the bar, I was a hermit. I needed to feel my grief. To own it. Just like after my mother had died.
There were moments when I wanted to die. Brief moments, though, because I immediately pulled myself out of that thinking. What was it they said? That suicide was a permanent solution to a temporary problem? Or something like that. And I didn’t really want to die. It was just that the pain had gotten so bad, so acute, that I thought about putting myself out of my misery.
But grieving goes in spurts. It was always like a roller coaster, and I had good days and bad days. On the bad days, I would be on my couch, not doing a single thing. The thoughts of Dalilah would become obsessive on these days, so that every single cell in my body seemed like they were filled with some kind of lead. My body felt heavy, and my depression was deep.
On the good days, though, life was bearable. Not great, but bearable. I would actually be able to leave the apartment and grab a bite down at Joey’s Diner, knowing that Joey, with his boisterous personality, would never fail to cheer me up. Other days, I would sit on the sidewalk next to Freddy, my homeless friend, and the two of us would shoot the shit. Sad to say, but Freddy would make me feel better about my life, because he had some real problems. One day I actually felt energetic enough to volunteer at the homeless shelter where Freddy got most of his meals. Giving back made me feel better, and being around the homeless made me appreciate anew how much I had and how much I was given.
I would think that I had turned a corner, but then, the next day, my depression would be back, worse than ever. And it was funny – whatever mood I would be in on any given day was the mood that I, at that time, thought would be permanent. On the good days, I thought that I was over my grieving, and that I could move on with my life. On my bad days, I thought that my extreme despair and depression were here to stay. Of course, neither of these thoughts were ever true, because my emotions changed on a dime.
Which brought me to my premiere night. Thankfully, it happened on one of my good days, so I felt reasonably ready to show up and try to meet as many people as possible. Nottingham had taken care of all the publicity and the rest of the details, so that all that I really had to do was show up. Even that was optional, but I felt that it was something that was really necessary.
I was even looking forward to the evening just a bit. There was going to be an open bar and hors d’oeuvres, which was going to include all kinds of little gourmet bites. If nothing else, I was looking forward to getting some free food and drinks, although I wasn’t going to get hammered by any means. I just wanted to drink enough to take the edge off, because I had to be charming if I was going to impress these big shots who were going to be there.
Jake called me right before I was getting ready to leave. “Hey,” he said. “Just wanted to wish you good luck, man. I know that you’re gonna take names, but I wanted to call and tell you that I’m behind you. You got this, buddy. You got this.”
I smiled. Good ol’ Jake. I could always count on him to have my back, no matter what. “Thanks for calling,” I said. “I’ll hit you up later and let you know how it goes.”
“Break a leg, dude,” he said.
“Later.”
At that, I looked in the mirror one last time. My hair was behaving a little bit, and I was dressed as nicely as possible – I was wearing the pants from the suit that Dalilah’s father gave me, with leather shoes that weren’t too worn, and a purple button down with my collar open. I wanted to look dressy, yet casual, which was why I didn’t go the entire suit and tie route. Then I went down to meet the cab that I had called for the evening.
My anticipation was high as the cab drove off the curb and towards my future.
Chapter 12
Dalilah
Luke’s premiere was upon me, and I had tried mightily to get out of going. I tried every excuse that I could think of, but Nottingham simply said “you’re going. I want everybody to meet my new wife. And you’re going to behave yourself, too. I’m sick and tired of your rebelliousness. You’re going to wear that cocktail dress that I bought for you, you’re going to be gracious to everyone I introduce you to, and you’re going to smile politely at everyone there. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” I said. I was terrified about being there, though. How could I do this to Luke? I hated Nottingham more than I had ever hated him, right at that moment, for making me do this. By this time, he was well aware of how much I loved Luke. He and I
shared a bed after we were married, and I submitted to him, just like he told me I would have to do. I hated that. I hated for him to touch me, period, so the sex games were insufferable. The only good thing was that he had lain off of the beating, unlike the first night that he met me, because the cocktail gown that he had bought for me was backless, and it wouldn’t do for me to have any kind of marks on my body when I was going to meet his fancy friends.
But, because Nottingham and I shared a bed, he knew how much I was in love with Luke. Because I dreamed about Luke every night, and Nottingham told me every morning how much I talked in my sleep.
“And the only thing you talk about, Dalilah, is him.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I’ll try to control what I dream about from now on.”
“Sarcastic little bitch. I’m very happy that you have to see him at his premiere. I’m very pleased that he’s going to see you with me, and he’s going to know that you belong to me now. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I go up to him and introduce you as my wife.”
I immediately regretted my insolence to Nottingham. Because, right at that moment, I wanted to beg him not to make me go through with this. I couldn’t do this to Luke, I just couldn’t.
But I had to. It was going to break my heart into a million pieces, but I had to do this. Nottingham had made it clear that I had no choice.
As I laid in the bathtub, trying to psyche myself up for what it was that I was going to have to do, my mind drifted to my “honeymoon” with Nottingham. He actually had taken off of work the weekend after we were married – much to my chagrin, as I preferred it when he worked 18-hour days, for obvious reasons – and we went to his beach house in the Bahamas. It was a typical billionaire beach house – all glass and marble, with a stone façade. It was easily 6000 square feet, and was equipped with everything – indoor and outdoor pool, several hot tubs, a game room, a movie theatre, etc., etc. It was situated right on the beach.
It actually turned out to be not that great of a honeymoon for him, but a nice one for me. Something was blowing up back at his job, and he spent most of the weekend on the phone and on the computer, trying to straighten everything out. Which meant that I spent that weekend virtually alone, and took advantage of that.
I ended up swimming in the ocean much of the time. Which was nice, really, except for that one day. That one day when I almost lost my life. And I realized that perhaps I really wanted to die after all.
Chapter 13
It happened on the second day that we were there. Nottingham was on the phone, screaming in Italian at some poor sap, and I informed him that I was going to be down at the beach if he needed me.
“Whatever,” he said to me. “Have fun,” he said in a tone of voice that made me know that he really didn’t want me to have fun at all. “I have to talk to Antonio about this crisis.”
I gathered that “Antonio” referred to somebody who was part of the Italian subsidiary of Nottingham Enterprises.
I shrugged, got on my suit, put on a ton of sunscreen, and headed down to the secluded beach. I laid down my towel, erected an umbrella, and just listened to the waves. Back home, it was 20 degrees, but here it was 80 and sunny.
I closed my eyes, and imagined that I was on my honeymoon with Luke. What would we be doing right now? Probably having sex on every piece of furniture in the house. But maybe not. Maybe we’d be teasing each other over a game of backgammon. Or perhaps we would each be reading a book, him sitting on the couch, me with my head on his lap. We both would probably get a lot of painting done, too. We would swim in the ocean together, maybe, him carrying me playfully while kissing me passionately.
I breathed in the daydream, trying to feel it. Trying to put myself into the dream so that it seemed like a reality. Sometimes I was able to do this, and it made me feel really happy for just those few stolen moments.
But, today, just thinking about being with Luke made me feel nothing but depressed. Because I wanted so badly to be with him, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t, and that was the reality. My fantasy was never going to become a reality, so I had to stop dreaming and start trying to figure out how I was going to survive life the way that it was for me.
I went down to the water, the waves washing over me. I went further and further out, as I tried to get to an area that was somewhat calmer. I was an excellent swimmer, so I really wasn’t too worried when I realized, suddenly, that I couldn’t touch anymore.
I tried to swim to shore, but I realized that I was caught in a rip tide. It was a powerful one, too, and, even though I tried to swim horizontally towards the shore, it seemed that I got further and further out. The shore looked like it was a hundred miles away, and I felt a sense of panic welling up in my throat.
Was this it? Was this how it was going to go? I was just going to sink into oblivion out here, all alone? The tide was pushing me further and further back, and it seemed as if all was lost.
And I...accepted it. An overwhelming sense of peace washed over me, as I realized that I was welcoming it. I said a little prayer that Luke and everyone who loved me would eventually be okay, and I floated on my back and looked to the heavens. I didn’t even try to fight anymore. I just let the waves push me further and further back.
Of course, I didn’t actually drown. I eventually found that I was out of the rip-tide, so I was able to ride the waves back to shore, as I swam furiously. By the time I got to shore, I was exhausted and my heart was pounding out of my chest. It took me about an hour to truly recover from that near-death experience, as my entire body was trembling and I was near tears.
I almost died. If I wasn’t as strong of a swimmer as I was, I would have drowned. I had no idea how I got out of that rip-tide, and this was, by far, the scariest experience that I had ever had.
Finally, the shock of what just happened wore off, and I laid down on the beach and bawled more than I had ever bawled. It was partly out of relief that I made it out of the ocean alive. But it was also that my emotions and grief over my life finally caught up to me, right at that moment, and the tears simply couldn’t stop. I laid down on my blanket, under my umbrella, for hours, just holding myself and crying. Rocking back and forth, sobbing, and barely being able to catch my breath.
I finally trudged back into the house when the sun started to set, and Nottingham was still screaming at somebody, in French this time. I was fluent in French, Italian, Spanish and German, so I understood every word he said. And what he was saying to this poor lackey on the other end of the phone wasn’t pretty.
He didn’t even acknowledge me as I walked past him on the way to the bedroom. I got changed into my clothes and laid down on the bed, and immediately fell asleep.
Chapter 14
So, as I laid in the bathtub, dreading what was ahead, my mind had drifted to that day at the beach. I mean, once I got out of the situation, I was relieved. But while I was in it – when I actually thought that I would die – there was almost a sense of peace. When I had a chance to process all of my emotions, I started to feel concerned that I almost welcomed the prospect of slipping beneath those waves and never resurfacing. I had no idea what waited for me after death, if anything did at all, but no matter – I realized, in that moment, that dying was something that I really was looking forward to.
Because I had no idea how I could live a lifetime in the situation that I was in. Nottingham was abusive, cold, cruel and vindictive. My father was right – the world was his chessboard, and the people in it were his to manipulate to try to get his checkmate. Luke and I were but pawns in his game, and the game was what he really delighted in. As long as he could see me squirm, and make sure that Luke was sufficiently humiliated and depressed, Nottingham was going to be happy. As happy as a man like him could ever be.
I took the sponge and filled it with water, and squeezed it over my body. My toes were pruning a little bit, which was when I realized that I had been in the tub for longer than I had thought.
In a few minutes, Notting
ham was pounding on the door. “You have to get out of there right now, because we’re leaving in less than an hour.”
I tried to will away my tears, which were threatening, because seeing Luke at the premiere was going to be something that was going to be incomprehensible. No doubt, Nottingham was going to make a show of going right up to him and introducing me as his wife. And Luke would immediately be thrown off his game. I was starting to question my original decision to not text him to warn him, but, then again, it might still be the right decision – at least Luke would be at the party tonight. If I told him what was going to go down, he no doubt wouldn’t be.
I grabbed my pot cookie and ate the entire thing. Within ten minutes, I felt myself relaxing. I then got out of the tub, and went into the bedroom, where there was a backless black cocktail dress waiting for me, along with a pair of high-heeled stilettos. I got dressed, and put my hair up and a little bit of makeup. I grabbed my clutch and went downstairs, where Nottingham was waiting for me in a tux.
I took his arm, and he led me into the limousine, and we took off. We took off to where Luke was, and I knew, for a fact, that I was going to break his heart anew. Even moreso than ever. Inside, I wanted to puke and scream and cry. But I tried to show no emotion outside. I, once again, was going to have to play a part that evening. The part of the charming wife. And I was going to have to somehow shut off my feelings for Luke. That was going to be next to impossible.
I had no idea what was going to happen that evening, but I had a feeling that whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be good.
Chapter 15
Luke
I walked into the premiere, feeling nervous and excited. I had actually psyched myself up for this, and I was astounded at how many people were milling about. Granted, I wasn’t the only one who was showing – there were two other artists as well – but I still felt more than flattered to see several different people at each one of my paintings just admiring them.
