The Marriage Contract (21 page)

              “Are you…are you checking me out?” I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling exposed.

              “I am,” he replied. “It’s not a crime.”

              The crossing sign changed, as I shook my head, walking through to the other side. He followed, still grinning like the flirtatious Prince he was, while I tried my best to still the rapid beating of my heart. When we got to the other side of the street, I turned towards him, allowing him to lead the way to the car.

              “It’s creepy,” I said. “Staring like that, I mean. It’s just…creepy.”

              He had long strides, and I had to walk twice as fast for my average legs to keep up.

              “Creepy?” He laughed once more. “You’re a grown woman and you say the word ‘creepy’? Interesting—“

              “Don’t insult my vocabulary!”

              He shot me a wink, grinning, as we got to his car at last. The shiny, silver Mercedes glowed under the night sky. He took out the key from his pocket, gripping it within his palms.

              “You’re a little girl,” he said, leaning against the side of the car. “Only little girls would find that creepy—“

              “Your ignorant assumptions of my character are completely wrong,” I said, rambling. “Any woman would find that creepy.”

              He stared at me for a moment then dropped his gaze to my shoes, travelling up my dress, leading to my neck, and then stopping, for a second, on my mouth. That familiar hot chill slithered through my spine, but I suppressed the shiver- glaring at him.

              “You’re doing it again,” I snapped. “That creepy staring thing—“

              He sighed, tilting his head to the side.

              “Must you use that word, Dorothy?” he asked. “You know what? I’m sorry. No, I really am. I apologize.”

              I smiled. “Thank you.”

              He chuckled lightly in response, walking around till he reached the driver’s side of the car. There was a smirk to his face that told me that whatever I had thanked him for, was a dumb move on my part. As I entered his car, I chewed on my lower lip, hearing the engine rumble. The window was down- the gust blowing my strands to my mouth, as I tucked the hair behind my ears.

              “Wait,” I said slowly. “What are you sorry…for?”

              James’s hand rested over the steering wheel, his head turning towards me. His face glowed in amusement, as though inwardly laughing at a secret joke.

              “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “That you’re a little girl.”

              I stared at him, my mind repeating his words, as my mouth opened, then closed. I licked my bottom lip, swallowing a breath- my throat suddenly feeling dry.

              “I’m not a little girl,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I’m anything but—“

              “You’re not?” he challenged. “Then prove it.”

              I frowned. “I don’t have to prove anything to you—“

              “So that means you are a little girl—“

              “Quit calling me that!”

              He smiled. “A bratty little girl as well—“

              “I told you I’m not!”

              “Then prove it,” he pestered. “Prove that you’re not.”

              My hands clenched on the fabric of my lap, as he gave me an expectant stare. The wind howled through the open window, as I watched pedestrians cross the street ahead, enjoying the warm night breeze.

              “How do I prove that?” I asked.

              He stared at me for a moment, and then laughed, reaching over to the top of my head- ruffling my hair.

              “You’re too innocent,” he said, smiling widely. “Honestly…It’s kind of refreshing.”

              I frowned, feeling a bit disheartened for some reason. The ride home passed with him laughing at my question, as random songs from the radio drowned out his voice. I closed my eyes for the rest of the ride, my lips pursed, and my heart- burning.

              When we got out the car, I went to open the door to the back seat, searching for the food we’d bought. It was probably cold by now, and though we didn’t yet have a microwave yet, it should be eatable.

              “What are you looking for?” James asked, as I opened the door.

              “For our food,” I replied. “Did you leave it in the trunk or something?”

              He walked towards me, circling an arm around my waist- pulling me back. I gasped, as he closed the door, beeping a button on his key, locking it. My waist scorched where he touched it, as I pushed back, standing a foot apart from him.

              “I threw it away,” he explained.

              My eyes bulged. “You did what?”

              He shrugged, walking past me, towards our building. I jogged after him, glaring.

              “I’d eaten my share,” he said “And you just left yours there on the table. I figured you didn’t like it—“

              “I thought you’d bring it with you!” I snapped. “I can’t believe you wasted so much food!”

              The moon was an oyster’s pearl over the deep blue sky, as James ignored my complaints- opening the door to our building. I walked after him- my shoulders slumped, as I thought about all that food that had been dumped in the trash. If I had known he planned to throw it all away, I would have finished every bite then and there.

              While my mind rambled on about the tragedy of the wasted food, my face hit his back, as he stopped walking.

              “Who is that?” He asked, sounding worried. 

              “Who’s who?” I walked around him, staring quizzically at his profile.

              He glared, cupping my chin, and turning my head towards his area of interest. When I saw who’d caught his attention, I froze.

              A middle aged woman, whose bright red hair was a shade deeper than mine, stood with a small black luggage beside our grey, metal door. Her locks rested in two pig tails over her shoulder, as her pink polka dotted summer dress, danced by her knobby knees. She was a curvy lady, whose thin lips widened into a smile, as she rushed towards me, her arms extended outwards.

              “Aunt Molly,” I smiled. “What a…pleasant surprise—“

              “Oh, how I’ve missed you!” she squealed, embracing me in a tight bear hug. “Look at you. Just look at you! Our little Dory has gotten so fancy in the big city, huh?”

              She pulled apart, and I blushed, giving her a warm smile. Her large green eyes turned to James, who stood there, giving her a polite grin. Aunt Molly’s expression darkened, as she narrowed her eyes, taking a step towards him.

              Oh, no.

              Before I could stop her, she curved her fingers around his ear, twisting it. He yelped, jumping up and down, as she dragged him by the ear to the door.

              The security guard, who stood behind the front desk of the building, smiled. His name tag read, “Maxwell,” and when our gaze met, he gave me a curt nod. I shook my stare, running towards James, who was currently getting his ear torn by a woman twice his age.

              “You little rat!” Aunt Molly snapped.

              She brought James to his knees, holding both his ears.

              “Let go!” James snapped. “I’ll call my lawyer—“

              “Call your fancy lawyer, why don’t you!” she challenged. “But first, say sorry—“

              “Aunt, please stop!” I sounded desperate, as I stood behind her, trying to pull her hands off of him.

              But the more I pulled her arms, the harder she pulled his ears.

              “You stay out of this,” she snapped, glaring at me. “You got married! Without telling me, without telling your grandparents, without telling anyone! And it’s all his fault! This no good—“

              “I love him!” The words left my mouth before I could stop them, as both Aunt and James turned to gape at me.

              Her hold on his ear had loosened, as she blinked slowly- taken aback by my outburst. James’s brows rose, as I rubbed my hands against my sides, feeling my heart flip.

              “He didn’t con me, or trick me, or anything,” I said, staring pleadingly at her. “I fell in love…with…him. And…it’s a long story, so let’s just go inside and talk, okay?”

              Aunt nodded, letting go of James’s ear, but shooting him another cold glare in the process. He exhaled a sigh of relief, standing, and walking towards the door. While he opened the door, he didn’t bother to keep it open for her, but before I entered, he held it open.

              I mouthed the words, “I’m sorry” to him, for I knew his ears would probably need medical attention, or a good pack of ice. He sighed in response, as I turned, locking the door behind me.

              “Well, would you look at this,” said Aunt Molly, dragging her luggage through the wooden floor. “There isn’t even a stool to sit on! You kids sure have a nice place to live, but without furniture, it’s a bit hard to make it a home, isn’t it?”

              “Um…James ordered the furniture,” I explained. “It should be coming any day now—“

              “Tomorrow,” he said. “It will be here tomorrow. But…I believe we haven’t had a proper introduction…Miss?”

              Aunt Molly looked around the room, walking towards the window, where the view of the night skyline peaked overhead. She whistled an appreciative tune.

              “Sure is a lovely sight,” she said.

              James’s eyes hardened, as he crossed his arms over his chest, annoyance hitting his features. He was probably not used to getting ignored.

              “I can explain everything.” I broke the awkward silence, walking towards her. “There’s a reason why I couldn’t tell you or anyone else about this marriage—“

              She snorted, turning around, and shooting another icy stare at James.

              “I don’t want to hear any explanation from you!” she snapped. “I want to hear it from him. Go on. Start with an introduction, and then continue. You do know what a polite introduction is, don’t you?”

              “I do,” replied James. “But apparently, you don’t—“

              “What did you just say to me, boy?” Aunt Molly’s voice rose.

              I gave her elbow a slight squeeze, trying to calm her temper. If anyone knew Aunt Molly, they knew that her temper was not to be messed with. There was a rumor in the small town I grew up in, that one day a man made a derogatory remark towards her, and the following day, he’d ended up at the hospital, his legs broken. People said that the man was too embarrassed to reveal that he’d been beaten up by a woman. The man left town a few days later, and never returned. They call her, “The Bull” back home, for she’s never one to back out of a fight, no matter how big or small the issue may be.

              “He didn’t mean it!” I spoke fast- staring wide eyed at James, hoping he would just apologize already.

“I did mean it,” James argued. “You don’t demand respect. You earn it.”

              She smiled. “Oh, is that so?”

              His eyes narrowed. “It is so.”

              I stared from her, then to him, feeling the tension thicken, as she took slow steps towards him. He stood his ground, towering over her 5 foot 5 frame, his arms rigid by his side.

              “Ahh, so this is what you look like,” she said, standing before him. “The newspaper’s portrait of you and my niece at that church was a little blurry, to say the least. So, tell me about yourself. Why is a rich man like you, marrying Dorothy? You’ve got another motive, son?”

              If Aunt Molly was anything, she was perceptive. She could look through people instantly, and her sense of judgment had helped me in the past when I’d met artificial friends. When she looked at others, she saw their souls reflect through the glint of their eyes, and in that moment, she’d know whether that person was right or wrong.

              It was a strange method, but she was never wrong.

              But as I looked at James, his usual happy stare had left, and a blank, unfamiliar gaze, was in its place. I frowned, realizing that for the first time in her life, Aunt Molly had met her match.

              “I have no motive. I love your niece, and I’ll always love her. Whether you believe me, is up to you.” His lie was so convincing- that for a moment, even I believed him. “We went through the normal dating stages, like any other couple, but see, there was just one problem—“

              “And what problem is that?” Aunt asked.

              He hesitated. “My family would never accept her. As great as she is, as smart, and kind, and sweet as she is…my family would never accept her. You’re probably not aware, but I get the paparazzi on my back sometimes when I’m out, so we had to date in secret. Our marriage was rushed, but only because we had no other option. Believe me, Dorothy wanted to tell you all, but I made her promise not to—“