AN AFFAIR WITH MY HUSBAND (FOUR)

❛I had all and then most of you, some and now, none of you; take me back to the night we met❜ — The Night We Met/ Lord Huron.

— T O B I A S—

“Fuck.”

I cursed, hurling my phone against the wall in frustration. A week had passed since I last saw Gianna, and all my attempts to locate her had been in vain. I had managed to get her home address from her boss, only to discover that it was now part of a murder investigation—she hadn't been joking when she said she killed her boyfriend and his mistress. But right now, that wasn’t my primary concern. I was married, and even though the memories of that night were hazy, I just had to find her.

The very fact that I had already tied myself to her provoked my family, and the news of my wife’s impending visit turned them against her, labeling her a rude ‘nobody.’

I nearly broke my uncle's jaw in a fit of rage but managed to keep my composure. The fact that they didn't know her did not diminish her significance in their twisted view of the world. Now, I found myself questioning how well I truly knew her.

Slumping into the chair, I rubbed my forehead, breathing heavily as I struggled to pull my emotions together. Did she even mean what she said that night? Why did she leave? Did she regret everything? Perhaps it was all a sick mistake, and I was left bearing this tattoo like a badge of madness.

I had initially believed I was dreaming, but the tattoo, her words, her smile—it felt too vivid to dismiss. I could no longer picture her face clearly, but I knew that when I saw her again, I could probably recognize her.

The phone rang, and I picked it up reluctantly. “Yes?”

“Sir, there’s someone here looking for you. She says she’s your wife,” the receptionist informed me.

My eyes widened. “Let her in,” I said quickly, my heart racing.

I ended the call and drummed my fingers on the table while I waited. I couldn’t find her, yet she had come searching for me. If she had introduced herself as my wife, there was still hope for us.

The door swung open, and as I watched her walk in wearing a long yellow dress, my breath hitched.

“Thank you,” she smiled at the receptionist, and I sensed a shift.

Aside from the fact that her voice sounded different, Gianna wasn’t typically the type to express gratitude. In our few hours together, I had never heard her utter those words to anyone.

She walked towards me, a smile gracing her lips, but as I stared, I was puzzled. The enchantment I once felt was fading; while her smile was pleasant, I noticed dimples I hadn’t observed the night we tied the knot. Up close, I could examine her features more closely. She wasn’t ugly, but perhaps I had overly romanticized her in my mind that night.

“Hey,” she greeted, breaking my reverie.

“Please, sit.” I motioned for her to take a seat, and she did, clutching her purse nervously.

“I heard you were looking for me.”

“Yes...” I began. “I umm... what’s your name, sorry?”

She frowned, visibly displeased by my inquiry. “Gee Fox,” she replied.

“I meant your real name, not that.”

“I’m not allowed to share my real name, Mr. Whitlock. I—”

“You told me that night. Don’t you remember?”

She bit her lower lip tightly. “I shouldn’t have; it was a mistake.”

My heart dropped at the admission, and I felt my fingers tremble. “A mistake? Even the fact that we’re married?”

Gianna’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You really don’t know? We got married that night! You told me to f*ck you, and I said I’d only do that if we married and you—”

“Okay, fine!” she yelled, before quickly whispering, “I’m sorry for yelling.”

I couldn’t believe she was apologizing.

Gianna lowered her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “I remember now.”

“Then why did you leave? Why did you change your mind? It’s been a week, and I honestly haven’t stopped thinking about that night... about you.” I confessed, my voice quivering with desperation.

“I just...” Her voice broke, and she sniffled. I stood and walked toward her, taking her hands in mine as I listened intently. “I’m a stripper, Tobias. Your family probably wouldn’t accept me. I didn’t want to get you in trouble.”

“No. No, fuck what they think. I married you, and stripper or not, I don’t care—even if you murdered your boyfriend.” I attempted to ease the tension with humor, but she looked frightened, her fingers tightening in mine.

“I didn’t kill him on purpose; it was a mistake.”

“It’s okay. I can clear that up.”

“Really? Thank you.” She smiled, a warm gesture that somehow calmed my racing heart.

“Hmm.” I nodded, my gaze drifting casually to her hands.

“What happened to the tattoo on your index finger?” I asked, astonished to see the spot was clean, as if there had never been ink there before.

She immediately pulled her hands away from mine, and I raised an eyebrow in confusion. “I had all my tattoos removed. When I met you, I realized that I’ve been living incorrectly. You inspired me to change, and I saw that my life had been meaningless all along. I wanted to change—for you.”

The idea of Gianna changing felt foreign and almost implausible to me.

“I didn’t want you to change for me.”

“So you want me to keep being a stripper? To get f*cked by men I barely know? To be treated like a toy just for money—”

“Gianna, look—”

“Call me Anna.”

I sighed. “If you want to work on yourself, that’s okay, but don’t do it because of me. I liked you just as you are. I didn’t mean the stripper part, just—your personality. And did you remove the tattoo that we both got?”

“Huh?”

I rose to my feet. “In this world of chaos, you’re my peace.”

“Hmm?”

“Those were your words! Don’t tell me you don’t remember.”

“I do... I accidentally removed that too. I’m sorry. I’ll have it replaced.”

“It’s only been a week.” I muttered, sitting on the edge of my desk as she nervously clutched the hem of her dress.

“I’m sorry. I just—”

“It’s okay.” I sighed, realizing I shouldn’t take it too seriously. Tattoos didn’t hold the same meaning for her as they did for me. I had already informed my family about her, and after the uproar I had caused to defend her, I couldn’t let go—not when she seemed ready to ‘change’ for me.

The silence stretched on, and after a couple of minutes, she cleared her throat. “So, what now?”

“We’ll go see my family, I guess.”

“Oh my gosh. I’m now a Whitlock?” She gasped, her excitement bubbling over.

“Yes. Yes, you are.”

She stood and threw her arms around me tightly, the gesture oddly familiar. Her waist felt fuller than before, but I didn’t want to judge her body.

“I love you,” she beamed, still holding me close.

Her words surprised me. She loved me?

“You don’t have to answer now, okay? I promise to be a good wife.” Anna gushed, her warmth enveloping me.

I could only nod as we remained in that embrace, left wondering if marrying Gianna Reese Erwin had been a brilliant decision or a colossal mistake.