"I didn't choose this for myself: the constant heartache, the feeling out of place in my own home, the lack of freedom. I didn't choose it, just like you didn't, Elijah. I can live with a husband who doesn't love me, but I will not forgo respect. I'...
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twenty months ago
I sit in front of Delani Campbell, as she quietly converses with one of the Campbell's advisors. We've been finalising negotiations for this deal for the past hour, and I think we're finally done.
"I'm willing to sign all of this, but I need to add another clause to the contract: in the first two years of your marriage, you and Lilliana will have to conceive a child. An heir that will formally unite our two families. I'm not interested in how that happens, as long as you're the father and Lilliana is the mother."
now
"Delani wants us to have a child," I repeat when Lilliana doesn't reply to me.
"What?" The surprise in her tone informs me that she may not have been aware of this part of our contract. "Your mom and my family agreed that a child that officially unites our family was needed. Nobody told you?"
She sighs in exasperation, "Of course, no one told me. Everything about this marriage was discussed and settled on without my input. I was thrown into this with no clue of what would actually happen to me."
Her hands shield her eyes as she sighs again, "I can't believe she would do this to me," she whispers under her breath.
"Why did you marry me, Lilliana. How did your mother get you to accept? If you were so clueless about everything this marriage entails . . . Why did you marry me?" The question has been hunting me for months.
When I realized how unhappy she is in this relationship, many months ago, guilt invaded every fibre of who I am, and I didn't understand why she would agree if she was going to be miserable. I still don't.
The Cambell family has been known and powerful for years. It was the first successful crime group in America that was started by a black family, and since then, they've grown exponentially. I knew about Lilliana before I met her - everyone did.
Before every social event with other crime families, I'd always be briefed about the members and the appropriate ways to approach and act. Lilliana Campbell was always a defiant little girl, that grew up to be a rebellious teen and woman: she was thought how to kill at a younger age than most of us, and her mother prepared her for this life from the moment she was birthed; she would have to take over one day, and her mother knew that as a woman she'd face more difficulties than any man in her position.
So, to imagine her being defenceless against her mother's demands doesn't seem right or likely.
"My mom's life was in danger, or I thought it was. We're not close, but I could never live with her death on my conscience, knowing I could have done something to prevent it. Marrying you was a no brainer, and the lesser of two evils. I thought I was doing the right thing. She never mentioned bringing a child into this fucked situation. I could never do that."
She refuses to look at me, but I know that her eyes are coated with unshed tears.
"We don't have a choice, Lilliana," I tell her, keeping my tone soft, to try and console her. "You signed that marriage contract. If we don't abide by the terms, your family loses my protection, and mine will automatically get everything The Campbell Cross owns."
A silent sob escapes her lips, and it takes everything in me to stop myself from reaching out to her and pulling her into my arms.
"Why would you agree to this, Elijah. You knew what was happening, so why would you accept?"
The memories of the months leading to our marriage flash in my mind, and after clearing my throat, I find the will to look at her. The light and happiness that previously shined in her eyes are now repressed by the defeat, I've grown accustomed to.
"I knew, but I also had no choice. This relationship was imposed onto me, and the last thing I want to do is add an innocent child to this fucked up situation. . . To our messed up families. But I don't see an alternative. We don't have one."
She nods, knowing I'm speaking the truth. "Obviously, I know that we're not a conventional couple, so I don't expect us to do this the conventional way either. I've read up on IVF: how it would work, the side effects and the chances of success and I think it's the best option. You'll be carrying, so you should choose, but that's what I think. We don't have to start immediately, take your time. Just let me know what you decide."
The relief that washes over her, at the mention of using IVF, is visible. Our moment in the empty room at the club, flashes in my mind, and so does the look she had on her face right after.
Whilst I could barely contain how elated I was at our moment, her expression was full of regret. I thought it was a step in the right direction, but it's clear she doesn't feel the same.
Her words hunt me.
It's just for tonight. Tomorrow we can go back to hating each other, to being the unhappy spouses we've been for the last eighteen months. I just. . . Just for tonight, I need you to not be my unhappy husband. I need you to want me. To pretend to want me, if that's easier.
She told me it didn't mean anything, but I didn't listen.
It's never been difficult acting like I want her - or pretending to - because I do want her, even after a year of rejection and distance between us.
Our eye contact breaks, and I can't help but hate myself for being the cause of her unhappiness, when all I want for her is the best this world has to offer.
