The Married One

by Samantha Drake

  Sighing, she brushed a hand over her face, pulling the loose strands up in the process. Just as she was about to stand up, a pair of footsteps echoed outside the studio. Frowning, Sophie looked at the door. It was Saturday, and late too. She hadn’t expected anyone to be there. No one usually was. That was why she loved going there at that time.

  The second someone entered through the door, Sophie wished she could have disappeared. The blood in her veins started boiling slowly, her own hands threatening to form tight fists. The blond had been surprised at first, but she’d quickly recovered, a smirk gradually tugging at the corner of her lips.

  “I see the defeat has been constructive.” The words came as soon as Nina entered. She wore her triumph with pride, her eyes shining beneath the lights.

  Sophie chose not to answer. There was no point in wasting any of her energy. Nina was leaving the studio. With any bit of luck, Sophie would never have to see her again. Her presence alone reminded her of the unfair life in which they lived. “Don’t mind me, I just came to pick up the stuff I left in the closet. I won’t take long.”

  Sophie faked a smile, reaching for the bar. She was about to stretch, a thing she always loved after hours of training, but Nina turned around again.

  “You know, if I were you, I would move away. I mean, let’s face it, you are not good enough for this city. Maybe you can even try something new. Being a waitress perhaps? Teaching?” Sophie wondered if her jaw was hanging or if she was just imagining it.

  Nina had always been a snob. She’d made it her purpose to piss her off. Since day one, she’d taken every opportunity to pick on her capabilities, to tell her how she didn’t deserve to be there. But, Sophie had shrugged it off. She knew it was just because her background wasn’t as bright as the other girls. She lacked their power and financial status.

  Still, Nina had never been that straightforward. That arrogant.

  In her mind, Sophie had already hit her. But, in reality, all she did was stare after her as she wished her an arrogant goodbye. Tears pricked at Sophie’s opened eyes. Not sad tears, but angry and rebellious ones. She was furious, not just towards Nina, but towards the system that didn't give her a chance for the simple fact that she didn’t have money.

  Nina’s words should have struck her down. Instead, they triggered a motivation Sophie hadn’t known before. It suddenly burnt in her soul, it surfaced in her blood, fueling her mind. Sophie was now determined to do anything just to prove the girl wrong.

  At that moment, an image flashed at the back of her mind, a single card that was now her secret weapon.

  Chapter 3

  Sophie looked around her, her hands fidgeting in her lap. She busied herself with the decor of the open space, but there wasn’t much she could observe. Although he was rich, Jonathan had a really simple sense of style. His apartment was plain, with a few pieces of furniture and just one single painting across the crisp white walls. The last time she’d been there, less than twenty-four hours ago, she had been in a state of shock and under the influence of a major hangover. She had spent little to no time taking in the design.

  From the corner of her eyes, she saw Jonathan rumble through the kitchen, making way too much noise for a simple cup of coffee. He seemed to be struggling, the sound of clicking glass and falling utensils echoing with every move.

  “So, how are you?” Jonathan eventually shouted from the kitchen isle.

  “Uhm–Good.” He was trying to make small talk, to alleviate the tension that rested between the two. But she wasn’t helping much. There was a voice bugging her, constantly picking on her. It asked her over and over what she was doing there, if she truly thought it was for the best. It prevented her from focusing on anything else–even trying to make their meeting normal.

  “That’s a plausible answer.” Jonathan chuckled, shaking his head as he handed her one of the familiar mugs. Sophie shrugged and thanked him, inhaling the strong scent of the drink.

  “So, should we talk about an agreement?”

  After she’d made up her mind, Sophie had called Jonathan. It had been late, but she feared that if she waited any longer she would change her mind. On the call, she’d made sure Jonathan understood he’d not have her continue the marriage without a proper clause that stated the nature of their relationship. Of course, she’d been stupid to think that he would want it any different. He was a businessman, and he had far more to lose if anything went wrong.

  “Yea!” She nodded, a little too fast, almost burning herself with the coffee. She tried ignoring the incident, hoping he hadn’t noticed, although it was highly unlikely. With steady hands, she reached for her bag, sliding her hand inside, so she could retrieve the folded piece of paper.

  “What’s that?” Jonathan frowned, his head slightly inclined to the left, his gaze traveling between her and the paper.

  “My terms,” she said nonchalantly, handing it to him. Surprised, Jonathan hesitated for a second. She was more than sure he’d suppressed a laugh.

  Sophie didn’t need to look at the paper to remember them, although she’d feared she’d forget everything by the time she reached his apartment. She seemed to have learned them by heart, the image of the paper clear in the back of her mind.

  She’d covered the essential, the most important one being that he’d arrange a fair interview for her. She didn’t want to bribe her way into LaRouge Ballet, she just wanted them to truly be willing to see her talent. If they didn’t want her after that, then she would be at peace. At least she would know she really didn’t deserve to be there.

  “That’s it?” Jonathan finally said after a long pause, his eyes eyeing her in confusion. “That’s all you want? An audition? I know it’s not to my benefit, but you know you can audition without being my wife. Right?”

  Sophie felt like kicking him. She rolled her eyes and eyed him deadly, arching a brow.

  “Of course, I know. Stop asking questions and just say if you agree or not.”

  She wasn’t willing to give him any details as to why she couldn’t audition on her own again. There was no way he’d understand her. He’ll probably just take Nina’s side and think she truly had no talent and she was making simple excuses.

  “Well, I agree, it’s just that the no-touch clause might be troublesome. What if you fall for me? How will you touch me then? Huh? It will be hard, I tell you. I’m quite irresistible.” Sophie looked at him with disbelief before hitting him against the shoulder, the boyish grin he had on widening.

  “You keep dreaming! I’m not really into the arrogant type.” She fluttered her lashes, throwing on the most exaggerated smile she could pull off.

  “Please! I’m everyone’s type.” Sophie decided to ignore that and asked something else.

  “What are your terms?”

  “I don’t give you anything aside from what you ask. And, well, no one ever gets to know that this marriage is fake.” He shrugged, leaning back into the couch. “Oh, and we get divorced in exactly a year.”

  Sophie meant to tell him that she would be a hero if she lasted a whole year with that arrogance. But she stopped. Instead, she looked around, a new idea creeping into the back of her mind.

  “What about public appearances? Do I have to actually act as your wife, or is it fine if I just remain so on paper?”

  “Well, you'll have to accompany me to dinners and parties, you know, the usual.” He shrugged as he ran a hand through his hair. “And we’ll have to move in for the time being.” Sophie almost choked on the sip of coffee she’d just taken.

  “What?!”

  “What did you expect? The press will surely be after you. We can’t risk having them see you walk into another apartment!” Sophie had surely forgotten about the paparazzi. They didn’t know who she was yet, all the articles have called her ‘mysterious girl’ or ‘secret girlfriend’. If she was to finally act as a wife, they were bound to find out.

  “I get the bedroom,” she blurted out, surprising herself before anyone else.
>
  Jonathan was about to say something, protest maybe, but he didn’t get to. His words caught in his throat, silenced by the sudden ring of the doorbell. The two looked at one another, their eyes wide.

  “Take off your shoes. Hide your bag,” he blurted out. “Just do something so you won’t look like you just got here!”

  Jonathan had already turned his back to her, but he heard her move behind him, or rather stumble behind him. There were a few ungraceful sounds, and if he wasn’t mistaken, even a fall, but he didn’t turn to look. He marched to the door, already half aware of who it was.

  He’d been avoiding her calls for the past two days, it had only been a matter of time before his mother showed up at his door. By nature, he’d been right. There she stood, her arms crossed, her thin brows furrowed above the blue eyes that matched the color of his own.

  “Hey, mom!” His mother ignored his greeting, striding right past him and inside the apartment.

  Her determined steps and the grim look on her features told one thing. She was out for answers and ready to scold the life out of him. Jonathan was not in the mood for that. He had enough on his plate already with all the mess he’d created. Honestly, he’d known she would show up sooner or later, but he had hoped that when the time came, Sophie wouldn’t be around. While he was used to his mother’s harsh words and impossible expectations, Sophie was not.

  He didn’t want his mom to ruin it all and make her run away. At least not until they signed the contract that would secure their marriage and her silence for the next couple of months. Silently, he sent a prayer, a thing he didn’t usually do, and asked for a bit of mercy.

  In the living room, Sophie had gotten rid of her bag and the paper with her terms–thankfully! Her shoes were off too, a pair of bright pink flamingo socks now on display. She’d tied her hair too, her bangs being the only loose strands of hair.

  Her acting, however, was way off point. She made it way too dramatic. But, it made him chuckle, nonetheless. He wasn’t sure who she was expecting, but the moment she saw his mother the smile she’d thrown on froze. She seemed to have piece things together and had figured out who she was.

  Slowly, she stood up from the weird position she had assumed and extended a hand, her other one going over the messy bun, probably wishing she hadn’t done it. His mother ignored her extended hand, throwing her a gaze Jonathan liked to describe as deadly.

  From behind his mother, Jonathan mouthed a ‘sorry’. Things were not going smoothly and that only made his hands sweat, his blood boiling with so much adrenaline, one might wonder if getting married truly was an extreme sport.

  “Hello. I’m Sophie. You must be Jonathan’s mother. He has told me so much about you!” She smiled, taking a seat opposite his mom.

  Nice lie, Jonathan acknowledged in his head, thanking God that at least he’d gotten married to a witty one.

  “I’m glad he did. Because he said nothing about you.” His mother's smile was like poison on her lips. It went beyond sarcastic, as sharp as a dagger.

  Sophie turned to him for help, her gaze pleading with him.

  “Sophie, how about you get my mom some of that green tea you got yesterday?” Having Sophie prepare something when she had absolutely no idea where things were was definitely a bad idea. But having her out of the room while his mother shot her first round of daggers was way better. He knew how to deal with her.

  Sophie hesitated for a moment, but stood up nonetheless. She shoved her hands in the back pocket of her jeans, a weird smile on her face as she nodded. She took a second to orient herself, something that his mother would have luckily mistook for nerves, before heading for the open-space kitchen.

  The continuous opening and closing of shelves began soon after, as she searched for the teabags. Jonathan could only hope she spotted the little box by the stove before his mother noticed that something was wrong.

  “Mom, listen, I know you’re pissed. But you don’t need to take it out on her. It’s not her fault,” Jonathan said in a low voice, pretending as if he was protecting Sophie, and not distracting his mom from the chaos in the kitchen.

  “Pissed! Jonathan I am furious!” his mom exclaimed. “Didn’t I tell you to be careful? Everyone is watching you! Why would you be so stupid?”

  Jonathan leaned into the armchair, his hand running through his already disheveled hair, his mind blank.

  “Mom, I’ve known Sophie for a while now. The whole point of keeping the relationship a secret was so it wouldn’t affect my position. We got married, I didn’t think anyone would know,” he said, gesturing with his hands, surprising even himself with how credible he sounded. Of course, he’d made sure his voice was high enough for Sophie to hear. “It was out of love.”

  “Out of love?! Couldn’t this love of yours wait? You could’ve introduced her to me. Done a proper wedding!”

  “How could I, Mom? My dad died. People would have gladly gossiped about that too. I was about to introduce her to everyone at the ball next month. I would have had a proper wedding too, in a year or so.” He had touched a spot, he could tell that. She believed their marriage was true, poorly timed but real. That was all Jonathan asked for.

  “What about her? Who is she anyway?” Jonathan went blank.

  Who was she? He had no idea. All he knew was that she was Sophie, the depressed girl he met at the bar. No family name, no occupation, no nothing. He stared at his mom blankly, for a second that definitely lasted longer in his mind. Luckily, Sophie had returned, a steaming cup of tea in hand and a nervous smile carefully plastered on her face.

  “I’m a full-time, working ballerina. I work for Palace Studios. I would love to have you at one of my shows.”

  Ballerina. So that was indeed her job. It wasn’t just a passion or a crazy dream she blindly followed.

  “A ballerina. And how exactly did you guys meet?”

  “New York.”

  “One of my shows.”

  The two had responded in unison. Two different answers, for the very same question. The moment was too awkward, and too unneeded if they meant to convince his mom.

  “A show in New York. We communicated through phone after that and only reunited after I returned.” The story seemed plausible. Jonathan was happy with it for the time being.

  “There is something wrong here and I don’t quite know what it is yet. But I’ll find out...and when I do–” His mom said, her gaze strict and her eyes turning to fixate on Sophie. “You’ll have some answers to give.”

  His mother’s voice had been cold, threatening even. Her freezing gaze made a shiver run down his spine, but, intense as the moment had been, he felt relieved to see her leave. Her tea had been untouched, she had deliberately ignored it.

  “There’s nothing to find, Mom,” Jonathan said, as he walked her out, the sound of Sophie’s goodbye vanishing behind them.

  “We’ll see. Just make sure your little wife doesn’t make a fool out of you tonight at the event.” “Event?” Jonathan frowned.

  “The charity event our company is hosting this afternoon. You’ll have to bring her. Hopefully, it will stop some of the gossip that is going around.”

  Jonathan almost sighed in exasperation. He’d forgotten about it. Of course, Sophie had to attend! But would she? It was all on such short notice, she was not prepared. They didn’t even have a straight story.

  “We’ll be there, Mom.” Jonathan smiled, kissing his mom on the cheek, before bidding her goodbye.

  *****

  Sophie cursed for the thousandth time under her breath, the heat of the straightening iron nearly burning her again. She mumbled colorful swears she hadn’t heard before herself. It had been the last strand of hair, but not the last time she imagined killing Jonathan. No, that was by far the last time she imagined strangling the man for having her attend an event so unexpectedly.

  After the tiresome events, and the intense meeting with his mom, Sophie would have pretty much hoped to spend the night tucked in bed, reading a book a
nd drinking some wine. Or, maybe a lot of wine. Instead, there she was, trying to pamper up when she felt like shit on the inside.

  She had been brought down all her life by people from Jonathan’s high society, Nina being the perfect example. They’d never accepted her. She saw no point in trying to look good and mingle with a bunch of them right now. But, she didn’t have much of a choice.

  She had asked her few close friends for help, but they had all been too busy or too angry with her for keeping Jonathan a secret. So, she had had to go through the process of getting ready on her own.

  Of course, picking an outfit had been the hardest part. She’d spent a little over an hour trying to pick out a dress from her closet, knowing all too well she had no time to shop. She had eventually settled on a red dress she’d worn to an after-party once. The dress was simply made of satin, with a low cleavage and a small slit on the side. It wasn’t too revealing or extravagant, but good enough to keep the gossip away. She’d paired it all with ear drop earrings and red high heels.

  Given she’d spent most of the time picking a dress, she only had an hour for both her makeup and hair. Well, that hour was done now too, and only moments stood between her and the time

  Jonathan would arrive to pick her up.

  “Done!” she exclaimed, her fingers smoothing out her bangs again, as she took a few steps away from the mirror.

  She didn’t get a full-body image of herself, her mirror was too small for that. But, by the bits she’d seen, she dared to say that she did a great job. Her natural makeup was making her skin look more vibrant, the red lips she’d painted looked plump and fresh, unlike the way they’d looked that morning.

  Just as she was about to apply more blush, her phone rang, the familiar ringtone she’d assigned to Jonathan blasting through the vast space around her.

  “I’ll be down in a second,” she immediately answered, before hanging up again.