The Silence | ✔️

5. F

Steam rose from the strands of hair that I ran the straightener through. I sat at my vanity, watching the reflection of a woman that I wasn't all that familiar with now. Sometimes, it felt as though she was leaving me, a hollow replica of a spineless girl being put in her place. I'd once had identity. I'd been passionate, outspoken, in love with the world and the opportunities that it had to offer.

I didn't know that part of me anymore.

The banquet was this evening and Desmond hadn't laid a finger on me all week. I suspected that it had something to do with appearances at this event that I was dreading. The thought of putting on a show and acting as though marriage was paradise. . . it made me nauseous.

I finished straightening my hair and began to put some make up on. I decided on long false lashes, a red lip that looked beautiful against the white dress and of course some highlight. It was nice to accentuate my features. It was nice to feel beautiful.

I heard the front door open and close as I was slipping on a pair of red stilettos. The outfit had come together nicely and I wore a small smile as Desmond came in, dressed in his tuxedo and tie. He'd stepped out an hour or so ago due to a client emergency but he looked impatient and in a rush when he appeared at the threshold.

His cold blue stare swept me over, his mouth turning down. "Is that what you're wearing?"

"Uh," I straightened up and stole a glance in the full length mirror. "Yeah. Is there something wrong with it?"

"I said go and get a nice dress, Arian. Not something from the fucking bargain barn."

"It was one hundred and fifty dollars," I murmured, not feeling quite as beautiful as I did a few minutes ago. I pulled on the fabric at the front, wondering if I was bloated. Perhaps it didn't flatter my hips.

He waved me off and gestured for me to follow him. "It'll do. Whatever."

I followed behind him and swept the clutch up from the foyer table as we passed and walked out the front door. In an instant, I was deflated. How much I wished that he didn't make me feel worthless and disgusting. I didn't want his words to effect me in such a detrimental manner. But it was impossible not to feel insufficient.

We slid into his 2017 Porsche in the underground parking lot and within a few moments, we were on the road, driving through the dark night. Neither of us conversed a lot during the fifteen minute drive. But when we stopped in front of the hotel where the banquet was being held, he turned around and placed a hand on my knee.

"There are some important business associates inside," he explained with a tone that was calmer than his usual warnings. The lines in his forehead became prominent as he raised his brows. "Understand? I don't want to have any tantrums or attention seeking bullshit going on."

"Mhmm," I murmured. It was a blatant warning. So I nodded and gave him a tight smile. "Of course."

He lifted his lips in a smarmy smile and let his hand travel up the inside of my thigh. "Good."

He looked as though he was about to kiss me, but noticed the bright red lipstick and thought better of it. It was a relief when he let go of me and pushed open his car door.

When we got to the third floor where the event room was, Desmond gripped my hand and laced our fingers together as we stepped inside. It was hard. It required a lot of deep breathing and internal pep talks. But I plastered a smitten smile on and did what I could to appear as though I was in love with this man beside me.