Sunday – Voss Estate
I had been married for two weeks now.
In all that time, I barely saw Daniel. We crossed paths at dinner, but even now, after marrying him, I still took breakfast in the confines of my room.
The days blurred together. Watching movies, planting flowers, tending the garden. With so little to occupy me, I often found myself wishing for the hours to pass faster. I felt like Rapunzel in Tangled—stuck in a tower, waiting for release.
I missed Trish. I missed my old life, even if my family had never truly cared.
On a sunny afternoon, I wandered aimlessly through the halls until Grace's voice startled me.
"Mrs. Voss, do you need anything?" She smelled faintly of basil, fresh from the kitchen.
"No. Is Selene in?"
"Yes, ma'am. She's in the kitchen."
I found Selene there, bent over the counter, carefully chopping.
"Mrs. Voss," she said, surprised. "What brings you here? You shouldn't be in here."
"Selene, I'm tired of wasting my days. I thought I'd help a little. What are you making?"
She hesitated. "It's for Mr. Voss. His favorite meal—rosemary chicken with mashed potatoes."
"Ohh, it smells amazing. I'd love to try it too."
When she reached for another vegetable, I gently plucked the knife from her hand.
"Let me help."
Her eyes widened. "No, Mrs. Voss---"
"Selene, I insist. Don't worry, I know how to cook. I won't ruin anything," I laughed.
She laughed too, reluctantly giving in, and soon we were side by side. The kitchen filled with the sound of chopping, the hiss of onions in oil, the warmth of the oven, and our small bursts of laughter. For the first time since I arrived, I didn't feel entirely like an outsider.
When it was done, she plated me a small portion.
"How is it?" Selene asked, watching anxiously.
"It's really good! The rosemary makes it perfect." I smiled.
After lunch, restless again, I wandered outside. The sun was sharp, heating my skin as I walked past the vast pool. The water sparkled like glass, daring me. I hadn't swum in months.
Back inside, I changed into a lilac swimsuit, tying a robe loosely over it before returning to the pool. I slipped off the robe and dipped my toes first, then eased myself in. The water wrapped around me, cool and refreshing, washing away the stillness that clung to the house.
Floating on my back, I let my thoughts drift. Having meals at odd hours, sleeping too much, having too much freedom yet none at all. Things weren't unbearable, but they weren't living either. My life wasn't even mine.
When I finally climbed out and toweled myself dry, I bumped straight into Daniel.
He caught me, steadying me. My robe slipped slightly at the collar, revealing a hint of cleavage before I hastily pulled it together. His eyes flicked down for the briefest moment before he released me.
"You were swimming?" His voice was casual. His eyes drifted from my face to my legs and back up.
"Yes," I said, still catching my breath. "I needed something to do."
"Good. Did you enjoy it?"
The question surprised me. "I did. The water was nice."
Something tightened in my chest. Why did such a simple question feel like a glimpse of something… softer?
Today, he wore a fitted navy polo and dark slacks, casual but neat, as though he were on his way out.
"I saw what you did with the garden," he added. "It looks good."
"Thank you," I said softly, unsure what else to add.
He gave a brief nod and left without another word, leaving me standing there, lost in thoughts.
I stood there for a long moment after he left, towel clutched in my hands, wondering if marriage was supposed to feel like this—two strangers living in the same space, barely touching.
Upstairs, as I changed out of my swimsuit, my phone rang—Darcy. She had been calling almost every day since the wedding. Oddly, it was comforting.
"Mara! How are you? How's marriage treating you?"
I hesitated. What do I say? That I feel invisible? That my husband and I only exchange pleasantries over dinner? Instead, I forced a smile into my voice. "Very well, Darcy."
"I've missed you so much. How's your husband?"
"He's fine. I've missed you too."
"When am I going to see you again? We didn't even get to catch up properly!"
"I don't know, Darcy. I---"
"You know what? How about I pay you a visit? I'm sure you could use a familiar face around."
A spark of relief lit in me at the thought, then quickly dimmed. "I'm not sure about that. I'll check with him to see if it's okay."
"Oh, come on! You're not a child. Why do you have to ask him before having someone over? Anyway, ask him and let me know what he says, okay?"
"I will," I promised, though unease already stirred in me.
When the call ended, I placed the phone beside me.
Darcy was right, I could use a familiar face around. And she was right again: I shouldn't have to ask permission. But the thought of letting her come without Daniel's approval unsettled me. I remembered his words from that day: This house isn't open to just anyone. Don't invite people over without my knowledge.
I would ask. The worst he could do was say no. I didn't want to risk getting on his bad side, especially not after our little interaction earlier.