Quinn nods, accepting this without judgment.
"And why do you think he married you?" she asks.
This question is harder. I take my time answering.
I've wondered it myself, late at night when the house is quiet and I'm alone with my thoughts.
"Henry likes me," I say eventually. "And I'm... uncomplicated."
Quinn laughs, a sharp, genuine sound. "You wear rhinestones to breakfast."
I smile despite myself. "True."
"Arthur could have married anyone," Quinn points out. "Someone who already knows when to shut up and smile." She gestures around at the muted elegance of my room.
"But he chose you," she continues. "The lottery winner with the sparkly handbag who talks to his son about video games."
I haven't thought of it that way before. I assumed Arthur chose me because I was safe, familiar—a known quantity.
"Maybe he's tired of people who make sense on paper," Quinn suggests. "Maybe he wants someone who makes life less predictable."
The idea is startling. Arthur thrives on predictability. On control. On systems that function precisely as designed.
"I don't think so," I say slowly. "Arthur doesn't like surprises."
Quinn stands, retrieving her tablet. "Are you sure about that? Because from where I'm standing, he just married one."
She leaves me with that thought, closing the door quietly behind her.
I stare at the ceiling, turning her words over in my mind. Could Quinn be right? Could Arthur have chosen me not despite my differences, but because of them?
My wedding ring catches the light as I turn my hand, the simple band gleaming against my skin. I haven't taken it off since the ceremony.
Maybe this marriage is more complicated than I thought. Maybe Arthur is more complicated.
Arthur Dupree doesn’t make impulsive decisions.
Which means whatever he saw in me… he expects me to live up to.
