My Arranged Marriage

Excuses Excuses

“So, where is he taking you for your honeymoon” Sherry asked as soon as the waiter brought our beer.

I cringed inside. Dear God! I hope nowhere.  Being alone with a stranger was sure to be awkward.  However, I had a weird inkling that my husband would just be engrossed in work.  That was my only ray of hope.

I smile and shrug.  “Oh come on! Why are you so clammed up?” Sherry asked frustrated at how I was not being my talkative self.

I sighed.  “I just have been talking about my marriage all the time.  Everyone has been talking about it.  I just need a break” I said, a bit more aggressively than usual.

Sherry held her hands up and said “Okay, okay.  No marriage talk” she said and made a face.

I chuckled.  “So do you think anyone going to hire us soon?”  I ask, as a change of subject.  However, I feel gazes on me and when I look around the bar, I see people staring…very rudely.

Sherry shrugs.  “Better be.  They will not know what they are missing out on” she says and we chuckle as we clink our bears.

I hear voices, but ignore them all and focus on our conversation.  Sherry and I have been coming to this bar ever since we started law school, and it was always this noisy.

Sherry however, stopped and said “Someone has been calling you…you seriously need to get used to your new name” she says and it is only when I turn to my side that I see two big men in black suit.  “Please Mrs McMillian.  You need to come with us now” they say and I have a faint feeling that I am in trouble.

“Why?” Sherry asks defensively.

“It is for her own safety” they say, looking dead serious. They seem like the group of man who would normally be around my husband.

“Mr McMillian ordered this ma’am” they say and I nod.  They say they will drop Sherry home so I nod and go with them.

The car stops at the house and I walk in, wondering why on earth my husband would not want me to go out.  This is crazy.  Is he even going to put me under house arrest?  He really will hear about this in the evening when he comes home.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” he roars as soon as I enter my bedroom.  Startled, I turn behind and see him closing the door, looking like he would very much like to kill me.

“What did I do?” I asked, incredulous at being scolded like this.

“How can you just walk into that filthy, despicable bar?” he asked, dangerously still, as though if he moved it would be only to strangle me.

“That was not filthy!” I say, defending my favourite bar.

“And drinking beer!” he says as though that very thought disgusts him.

Exasperated at his unbelievably arrogant self, I decide retorting is better than trying to understand what it is about the bar and the beer that is revolting. 

“Well, since you apparently did your research on me, you should know this is my favourite bar.” I say, arms crossed.  He looks puzzled for a moment.  He was talking so loudly, and now all of a sudden he’s quiet?

So he really did want a meek little wife who will listen to his every whim.

He takes in a deep breath, obviously trying to calm himself then did the weirdest thing ever.  He chuckled.  Not a full laugh, but a chuckle….

“Went crazy cause am not the meek wife you wanted?” I could not resist taunting.