I’m heading to my room when I run into Tony. He’s seated on the silver sofa, impeccably dressed and smelling dangerously good, his left ankle resting on his right knee as he scrolls through his phone. It’s been a week since that awful night, and this is the first time I’ve seen him.
As I walk in, he lifts his head briefly, his cold eyes locking with mine for a moment before dropping back to his phone screen.
Clutching the collar of my robe in my fist, I walk toward him and stop a few steps away. “Hi.”
Without looking up, he responds with a slight nod. He’s still in a hostile mood, but the fact that he hasn’t completely ignored me gives me courage to sit in a nearby armchair and try to start a conversation.
“Is everything okay?”
Without lifting his head, he glances at me.
I elaborate further. “I mean your work. A few nights ago, you mentioned two of your shipments were stolen.”
He plants both feet firmly on the floor, his gaze briefly scanning me. “Have you checked with the doctor if swimming is safe for the baby?”
His dismissal of my question stings, but I try not to show it. “It’s safe. The doctor said it’s even good for the pregnancy. I can’t leave the house, so it’s the only thing I have.”
He stays quiet. I want to fix things between us, even though I know I’m not entirely to blame for how things have turned out. “Tony…about the other night—”
“There’s a dress on the bed,” he cuts me off. “Take a shower and get ready. I want your makeup to be flawless. Be ready at exactly eight p.m.”
It was foolish of me to think I could have a normal conversation with him. If he’s so unwilling to even hear me out, I won’t waste my energy trying to break the ice between us.
I stand up. “If I ask, will you tell me where we’re going?”
“What do you think?”
I give him a look of quiet disappointment before heading upstairs.
The dress on the bed makes me flinch. It’s basically a black strapless bra connected by sheer fabric to a short, puffy skirt. Completely inappropriate for going anywhere.
The thought crosses my mind that maybe we’re not going out at all. Tony has done this before, left an outfit on the bed that was practically just a couple of strings attached to a skirt. That one was for his own enjoyment. This one probably is too.
Just as he instructed, I’m ready by 8 p.m.
My small bump is obvious in this dress. I feel even more exposed. I let my long hair fall over my shoulders, hoping it will cover some of the bareness of my upper body, though it doesn’t do much.
Who am I kidding? I look like a whore.
The door opens abruptly, and Tony walks in. His cologne reaches me before he does, wafting through the room and teasing my senses. I see that he’s dressed in a pristine, tailored suit. He gives me a quick once-over, nodding his approval.
I take a step closer to him. “Tony, I’m really not comfortable in this outfit.”
He glances at my shoulders and ignores my comment. “Tie your hair back in a ponytail.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Are you even listening to me?”
Ignoring me again, he walks to the wardrobe filled with brand-new clothes, with their tags still on, untouched since before I arrived.
As he rummages through the closet, his back to me, his voice carries a sharp edge as he warns, “Trust me, you don’t want me to do it for you.”
I exhale in frustration and walk to the vanity table. Picking up a hair tie, I do as I was instructed, pulling my hair into a ponytail. Just as I finish, I see him approaching with a long gray coat in his hands. He holds it out, waiting for me to slip it on.
Anxiety creeps over me. “Are we going out?” My voice is now far less confident.
“Put it on.”
I step back. “There’s no way I’m going out dressed like this.”
