My intuition, however, gnaws at me, arguing that it wasn’t an act at all.
“Do you plan to stand there all night?”
Shaken from my thoughts, I turn to face Darcy, who is standing a few feet behind me. “Where is my room?” Looking around the entryway, I take small steps forward.
A small-framed woman wearing a black dress approaches me. “I’ll show you to your room, Mrs. Marshall.”
I stop in my tracks.Mrs. Marshall.I heard the new name when the priest pronounced us husband and wife. But that was just the priest saying those words, and I was too wrapped up in my thoughts for it to fully process.
But hearing it roll passively off the tongue of the maid of the house I’m now living in…
That makes everything real.
Darcy sighs and runs a hand through his styled hair. “I’ll call for you when the ramen is ready. Go get settled and comfortable.”
I swallow, not sparing another glance at Darcy in favor of hiding my face from him. I don’t know what I need to process, but there’s something I need to think over, and I can’t do it in his presence.
“Thank you,” I squeak, and I quickly follow the lady wearing rolled long sleeves, slacks, and an apron.
She leads me through the halls until we finally arrive at a plain-looking door. Plain for the mansion, I should say. When she opens it, I realize it is the colorful room Darcy brought me to when I had the unfortunate coffee incident. Was that only a few weeks ago?
What was that Tolstoy quote I learned in one of my college classes? Something about true life only being lived when small changes happen.
Change has hallmarked my life recently. Moving here isn’t a small change, but maybe it’s a sign that I can really start living? I don’t have to let the suffocating pressure of this new role or Darcy’s continuously sour attitude hold me back. I can choose to continueto live. Truly live. Regardless of Darcy’s reactions to me. He chose this just as much as I did.
Might as well embrace the change and have some fun. He signed a marriage and business contract, after all.
“Thank you,” I say to the maid again. “What’s your name?”
“Janice.” She shifts her eyes away from me as if she shouldn’t be interacting with me on such an informal level.
“Janice, you’re my new best friend here.” I pat her shoulders and her mouth forms an “o” shape. “Seriously,” I continue. “You know how Mr. Marshall is. I need a lady confidant in this place.”
She snickers and covers her mouth.
“Thank you again, Janice.” I give her a hug, while she awkwardly stands shocked and frozen. Then she leaves me with a click of the door closing, and I take in the wonderful, chaotic hues of yellow, orange, and pink swirling around my new room.
Exhausted from the day, I vow to unpack the boxes that are stacked against the walls tomorrow. I also make a mental note to tell the staff thank you for getting my things in here so quickly after I left all the boxes that I decided to keep in the lobby yesterday.
Stripping off my clothes and makeup, and wrapping my hair into my durag, I slither into the cozy bed and try not to fall asleep. Ultimately, I fail, drifting off to the memory of Darcy’s genuinely concerned eyes when he ran to meet me in the middle of the aisle.
“Mrs. Marshall.”
I stir, aware someone is calling for Darcy’s mom.
“Mrs. Marshall. Wake up. Your food is ready.”
My eyes snap open as I remember thatIam Mrs. Marshall.
Janice stands at the foot of my bed with a tray. The intoxicating smell of ramen reaches my nose and I inhale, immediately transported back to my childhood.
Ramen and anime were staples of surviving within the foster care system.
“I thought Darcy and I would be eating together?”
Janice turns her head away from me and says, “He asked me if I would deliver your food to your room. He took his bowl to his office.”
What is with him? We connected at the wedding. It was as if we were actually friends. And now he has the food that he said he would make me delivered to my room like this is a hotel?
