Marriage by Law (19 page)

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Authors: N.K. Pockett

BOOK: Marriage by Law
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"W-"

 

"Come on."

 

I realised we had made it home. I groaned loudly as I got out of the limo. One of my shoes slipped off and I couldn't be bothered to get it.

 

I was thankful for the strong arm helping me up. Good old Ma, I can always rely on her. I walked to the stairs and swore when my pinky toe stubbed into it. God, was it always painful? I heard a manly chuckle that sounded like Ma was sick. Why did her voice sound so deep?

 

 She helped me upstairs into the bedroom.

 

"You should change," she said. God, she really needed to take some cough medicine. Her voice was so deep.

 

I mumbled something as I heard the door close. I sighed and collapsed weakly onto the bed. I would change...right after I finish my dream with unicorns and rainbow vomit. Who even dreams about them?

 

 "She has a fever, Darius. I am so mad at you."

 

Margaret? I felt a warm cloth over my forehead. I tried opening my eyes but they were heavy. It was like they were locked down.

 

"I didn't mean it. How was I meant to know that she would fall in?"

 

I heard a loud sound, which was like a slap, and someone grumbled. 

 

"Well, make sure to keep changing the cloth every hour or so. Her temperature has to come down."

 

"What kind of moron gets a fever? Shouldn't she be getting a cold?"

 

Did he just call me a moron?

 

"Don't say bad things, boy. She shouldn't be sick at all."

 

I heard footsteps then the door closing and someone sighing. I felt the bed dip and the cloth disappeared from my forehead. I jumped as I felt it on my collarbones.

 

"Relax, go to sleep," whispered a voice in my ear. I felt another body next to mine and snuggled closer.

 

I felt an arm wrap around my shoulder, confusing me. The voice was hazy but the arm felt too muscular to be Margaret, unless she was working out now.

 

For the next few hours or days or years, who knew, I felt myself drift in and out of sleep. Sometimes I was greeted with voices, other times it was quiet, but there was always a presence next to me. And then I smelled my mother’s perfume.

 

Yep, no way was I going to open my eyes now. Don't do it, Ivory. Don't do it!

 

But all my eyes wanted to do was open. They needed the light they have been missing for a while now. They still felt heavy, though, and it was an effort to lift my eyelids. 

 

"Don't," I heard my dad warn her. Thank you, dad. 

 

"But she's missing the cocktail party."

 

Are you kidding me? I was like on my death bed!

 

Once again, my dad came to my rescue. "She's sick, hun. Let her skip this one."

 

I silently thanked my dad for being on my side always. My mum mumbled to herself. Who knew being sick could come in handy at times like this? I heard their footsteps fade away and another enter the room. 

 

I let out a long sigh into the pillow and realised I was casually lying on the bed on my stomach with my arms and legs spread out, without a care in the world. I blinked and opened my eyes.

 

"How are you feeling?"

 

Darius.

 

"Don't talk to me."

 

"Why?"

 

"You made me sick," I said into the pillow, hating the way my nose felt. Urgh, I haven't felt this sick since, well, grade nine. That was eternities away. 

 

I turned my head to the side when the bed dipped and saw him sitting on the edge and taking off his tie.

 

"Where did you go?"

 

He paused half way and raised an eyebrow. "Work."

 

Oh right, the rest of the world worked. I closed my eyes again, suddenly feeling lazy to get up. And then it hit me.

 

"Do I have hyperthemicia?"

 

"I doubt that."

 

"Well, I am sleepy, and tired, and I am sure my heart beats pretty slow. Symptoms of that." I rolled to my side. Sleeping on my stomach was weird. Not to mention how uncomfortable it was in the...upper chest area. How did girls do it? 

 

"You can't even say it right.
 
Hypothermia
. And no, you look fine. I'm sure you're fine. Plus you’re talking again like a chatterbox. You’re fine."

 

I was not a chatterbox, was I?

 

No, I was not. It was his fault I was stuck in bed all day. Oh god, I needed to get out; my brain was about to eat me. All the thoughts going through my head were like an extremely fast train trying to get off the tracks. See what I mean? I don't even know what I was rambling about, but cookies do sound nice.

 

"Come on, get some fresh air," he said, standing up. 

 

"Ew," I said, closing my eyes when he started unbuttoning his shirt.

 

"What?"

 

"Go change in a room."

 

"This is a room."

 

"Your face is a room," I replied, peeking through one eye. Thank god he stopped. He raised an eyebrow and then opened his mouth, then, probably thinking better of it, he grabbed his tie off the floor and walked toward the walk-in closet.

 

"Go get ready."

 

"Why?" I moaned, pulling the blanket higher. It was so cozy and warm in here, I never wanted to get out. Wait, didn't I just complain that I was getting too lazy in bed? Not in that way.

 

"My business partner is coming over."

 

"More people I don't know."

 

"You know him," said Darius, turning on the light in the walk-in closet.  "You met him at the party. James," and with that, he disappeared inside, leaving me looking pale on the bed. 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

 

 

 

"Can I just go back to bed? I don't think I'm feeling too well," I was telling Darius as I walked out of the walk-in closet. Darius was on the bed trying to do his tie, his eyebrows knotted in confusion like it was the hardest task in the world. 

 

"But you got ready," he pointed out, undoing the tie again. I muttered to myself as I fixed my dress. It was in blue colour and ended just above my knees. Neat and casual. There was no point getting dressed up for 
him
.

 

"Nonsense. You can meet my business partner," he said. He chucked away his tie on the bed and left the room. I grumbled to myself, tying my hair up in a pony tail. You mean my ex? Oh yea, no need to meet him again.

 

I caught up quickly and went downstairs.

 

"Ah, James, pleasure to see you again," Darius was saying as I got down. They greeted each other with a handshake like businessmen do. I avoided James's stare. "Have a seat." 

 

James took the seat on the opposite lounge. Thank god for that. I sat next to Darius, folding my hands in my lap like a lady. Ma came in serving the drinks and I grabbed a glass of champagne as well, using it to cover half my face. I pretended to be much more interested in the bubbles.

 

"Before I forget,” Darius was saying, “this is Al - Ivory, my wife." 

 

James, who was drinking his champagne, spluttered suddenly. I almost burst out laughing. In my mind I was thanking Darius for his great timing. James held out his hand. Would it be too obvious if I didn't shake it?

 

"Pleasure to meet you," he said. 

 

I nodded, reaching over and shaking his hand. He held my hand longer than necessary. I pulled my hand back and wiped it on the seat, subtly.

 

I was so bored out of my wits as they both started talking. There had to be a way to stop this business deal. Wasn't there someone better out there?

 

Darius's business was joining ours. I mean, that was the whole point of this stupid marriage, so why does he need more partners? I had to ask Ma if she knew. She must have overheard something. 

 

"I'll check on the preparations," Darius was saying.

 

My head snapped up when I saw that he walked toward the kitchen. I stood up hastily.

 

No, don't leave me here!

 

I took a step forward, and James blocked my way. Damn it, why was I on this side of the display table?

 

"Ivory, I just want to talk," he pleaded. Too close. I took a step back.

 

"No," I muttered. "This isn't the place or time, James." I looked over his shoulder. Darius can come back any minute and may not understand if he saw us this way. I wanted to tell him myself. But not now, not here and not like this.

 

"Will you agree to meet me somewhere then?"

 

I scoffed. Was this man for real?

 

"No."

 

'But, Ivy-"

 

"Don't call me that, and shut the heck up. Look, I don't even want to be in the same country as you, so being in the same house under the same roof in the same room isn't doing me a favor. You made your choice, okay? You -"

 

I heard footsteps and James looked back to see Darius walk in, with a smile on his face, which was a first. 

 

"Everything okay?" he asked, oblivious to the tension between me and James.

 

"Of course. Ivory was just about to show me to the washrooms," he said.

 

"Well, food should be served soon. Ivory, can you show James the washrooms?"

 

I gritted my teeth with a nod and walked past James. As much as I wanted to shove my shoulder against his, I'm pretty sure Darius would see that as a rude gesture.

 

I knew James was following me. Didn't even need to look back. His cologne was practically suffocating me.

 

What did Darius see in him anyway?

 

"Here," I said, nodding to a door.

 

I turned to leave but he grabbed my wrist, not gently either. I turned around and stomped on his foot, letting my heel dig in.

 

"Don't ever touch me," I said between gritted teeth. I pulled my hand back and walked away. I quickly rushed back to Darius who was talking to Ma and stood there with my hands clasped, trying to calm down my racing heart.

 

He told Ma, "All right, that should be fine," turned around to look at me. "Where is James?"

 

Like I was going to wait for him to ’wash’ up and then lead him back here. He can find his own way. I saw Ma and walked after her. 

 

"I'll help," I called to her, making her slow down. Any chance to get away from James.

 

Ma didn't need any help, it seemed. The dining room was set to perfection, with dim lights, a tray of excellent food and glasses filled with wine. 

 

"What's for dinner, Ma?" I asked as I walked closer to the table. Whatever it was, it smelled amazing.

 

"Indian tonight" She was smiling. "I made the bread myself."

 

I smiled at her effort for these weird-shaped bread and we laughed. We turned serious when the men walked in. 

 

The smaller table was used instead of the large dining table. It was circular, which meant wherever I sat, I was between the men. Damn it.

 

I avoided all eye contact and Ma walked around opening the lids, sending more flavoursome aroma into the air.

 

"This smells wonderful, ma’am. Indian is my favourite," James said as he surveyed the foods.

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