Page 15 of The Sound in Silence

Wow.The second floor has two halves with a single hallway-bridge connecting them. I glace to our right, toward where a set of double doors hide the rest of the mansion, and then to the left, where I catch the sight of a large bed through the doorway.

Instead of focusing on that though, the height of the second floor allows me to see the massive floor-to-ceiling windows that begin on the floor beneath us and stretch to the very top of the mansion. A huge wall of light pours in, but what mostly catches my attention is the body of water through it.

Breathtaking.

“Ariella.” Erico’s firm command breaks my stare as he’s standing in the doorway to what I presume is the bedroom. He gestures for me to enter first, so I do, marvelling at the same kind of window in it.

When Nico showed me the bedroom I’d be living in, my mind was blown over its beauty. It was larger than any room I’ve had before, with a lovely view of the grounds outside, and the forest in the distance.

But this…this is ethereal. Double, notriple,what I had at Nico’s. An apartment on its own. To my right, a sitting area with high back chairs that seem more expensive than the rent I once fought to contribute to. My eyes sweep over them toward the main attraction: the king-sized bed made up of an emerald green bedspread. The bed’s wooden posts are dark, stretching high to the vaulted ceiling, where a black canopy acts as a covering.

I’ve always wanted a canopied bed.

Ironic.

Tearing my gaze away, I inspect the massive space that could fit easily another handful of king-sized beds. The wall across from the bed boasts an electric fireplace and a flatscreen. To the right of the fireplace is two doors, and I wander toward them, peeking inside. A bathroom in one, probably about the size of mine at the Corsetti’s, and a closet in the other. Women’s clothes hang on one side of the closet, shelves of shoes that probably aren’t even my size.

Bought for Aurora most likely.

With that grim thought, I study the opposite side of the closet, lined mainly with dark clothing. Suits and workout gear seem to be the focus, but one thing’s obvious: it’s men’s clothing.

When Erico said we wouldn’t be a regular couple, I believed we’d have separate bedrooms. I don’t know how I feel about this. Conflicted, mainly, since some part of me is pleased to have this shared space, a place we can attempt to ever be more. But another part of me wishes for my own room, so I can bury my head and be miserable whenever the realization that I’ve subjected myself to a loveless marriage gets too much.

In a single statement, Erico tosses that entire conflict away. “Most of the time, you’ll have this room to yourself. Remember, I mentioned that during the week, I’ll be staying at my condo. Being in the city is more convenient for work.”

Right.Guess there’s no reason for the emotional conflict. There’s nothing to feel bad about. No choice. Pretending this is a regular marriage is useless when he won’t even be living here during the week. He’ll be the stranger who comes home on weekends, fucks his heir into me, and then leaves to do whatever he needs to. I’ll be a convenience factor.

Before the self-deprecating thoughts grow again, I turn away to study the far wall. Like my room in the Corsetti mansion, this one too is made up of windows. Dark green curtains are pulled back to reveal the ocean beyond. Water fills the view, and I imagine falling asleep to this. Much better than the forest I once stared at. Gentle waves slosh to the side of the land, kissing the edge, before dipping back down.

Suddenly, Erico speaks but not to me. A murmured short conversation I don’t turn around for, and then they’re gone, based on Erico’s silence.

Then the door shuts and my spine prickles with complete awareness.

Why does this feel like a death march?

Ichosethis and now I have to live with it. Live in unhappiness that I’m not this man’s first choice, or even second. Survive through the pain that this will be the only romance I’ll ever see, and without him, I wouldn’t have any other options.

Sex will be an act. A task that begins tonight to produce his heir. Without feeling and emotion, without either of us actually caring for one another. The beginning to the next chapter of my lonely life.

What did I do?

Erico’s footsteps bring him deeper into the room and my eyes flash to the windows. With the setting sun, the windows reveal enough of a reflection, I’m able to watch him come up behind me—not that I need to observe when I feel the sweep of his eyes over my back. With the dress my sister picked, the backing is low so when he sees me roll my shoulders, trying to rid myself of the ticklish sensation, he witnesses my feeble attempt.

He comes up behind me, his heat making my head swim. Or is that nerves? His hand lifts, and he drags a finger down the centre of my spine until reaching the dress’s edge. This is where he unzips me, I’m sure. Will he lay me down on that huge bed or will it be done right here, standing?

His touch disappears and—

Thump.

“Your bag.”

My attention flies toward my feet, where, sure enough, my single bag of everything I own has been dropped. It only holds my focus for a brief second because the sound of Erico’s steps moving farther away steals it.

He walks right to the bedroom doors and just when I expect he’ll lock it—lock us in for the night—he instead opens them, pausing in the threshold.

“I have to go down to Vegas for a bit. Might be two nights, could be a week. Not sure what’s happening until I arrive. I can text you, if you’d like.”

He’s leaving?Now?Why does my throat end up in my stomach when this reprieve should be everything I want?

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