33 | WIFE

18.4K 821 287
                                    

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

As I park my car, I look up at the house that Marco gave me the address to.

Squinting, I try to figure out if I can make out a name on the post box.

I can't because there isn't a name on the post box because there isn't a post box at all.

"Marco, what the hell have you brought me into?" I ask, under my breath.

In the past seven months where Marco and I have been dating, he has managed to get me into the stickiest of situations.

He made me try a pickle with Nutella just so that I can break the ice with Jesse, despite my telling him that Jesse and I get along just fine.

He's pushed me into the pool at his house no fewer than three times in the past ten months.

I have now perfected the art of standing far away from the edge of the pool.

It doesn't help, though.

He just carries me and throws me in now.

So, I've taken to wearing mostly water-friendly clothes and absolutely no suede shoes whenever we might be near a pool.

He's tried to bring the scariest movies he can find to watch with me and gets increasingly amused whenever I laugh at the jump scares, but still promises that one day, he will find one that genuinely frightens me. I think he's made it his life's mission to scare me now.

Whenever I send him infuriated texts during the day about a grumpy old, white man telling me what to do, he shows up at my office with a stock of supplies for the most imaginative recipes of dough and we make bread together.

I can't even count the number of drawings of buildings and bridges that I've been gifted, all because he gets the idea because of something I say or do. He gets this strange look in his eyes and looks at me the way cartoon characters look at each other when they're really hungry and see the other as a juicy steak. Then, he kisses my forehead and rushes off gleefully to find his drawing book and sketches saying, "I've got it, Bonnie. I've got it". When he's done, he shows it to me with the enthusiasm of a three-year-old showing their mother the drawings they did on the wall.

All those sketches adorn the walls of my office room.

He even bought me my own blow-up ball to roll around the lake in.

He even made a point to kiss me in front of his mother once and then had the audacity to say, "Hey, Mom. Remember when you walked in on this once?"

Suffice to say that the only reason I didn't annihilate him on the spot is because his Mom gave him a motherly look and she seems to be awfully fond of him.

God only knows why.

I certainly am not.

Fond of him.

The Billionaire's Playmate ✔Where stories live. Discover now