5. The Dress Distress

-Leia-

I never would have thought I’d be miserable on my wedding day and yet here I am, miserable as heck. 

Everything was perfect; the church, the reception, the cake, even the dress. The only thing not perfect was the groom. I know I have no right to be pissed off about it especially since I chose this, but damn, could Christian at least pretend to like me in front of others? It feels like I’m playing a one-sided game here.

Thank God the mess is over at eleven pm; I’m just about ready to strangle someone.

The drive to Christian’s penthouse is spent in an awkward silence when I realize that we haven’t really spoken about anything regarding this arrangement. Like at all. Damn it, I didn’t want to be the first one to break the silence, but here goes.

“Uhm, Christian,” he visibly stiffens at the mention of his name and turns his head to face me with a questioning raise of his eyebrow. 

“Yes, Red?” ugh, that nickname.

Swallowing my pride, I take a deep breath and try not to let his ridiculously handsome face annoy me. “We’re heading to your penthouse…but we haven’t really spoken about anything,” I say. 

His frown deepens even more and a dumb look crosses his face. “Anything like what?”

“Well, for one, there’s sleeping arrangements. How do we act when we’re in public together? What happens after today? You know, stuff we haven’t spoken about yet,” I explain, waving my hand about.

He chuckles and crosses his arms. “Oh. That. Well, you’ll have your own room, since there’s no reason for us to sleep in the same bed or be in each other’s space. When we’re in public, we obviously have to act like we’re… you know,” he says, then he resumes his staring out of the window.

Hmm, okay. If that’s how it’s going to be, how am I supposed to change the bastard for good? Gosh, Alexander really put a lot on me by giving me this; but then again, I didn’t exactly say no, did I?

We arrive at Park Avenue and enter the underground parking. The limo driver opens the door for me while Christian simply walks towards the elevator. He shoots me an exasperated look and I roll my eyes when I join him.

“God, do you always wear that scowl?” I ask when I join him and cross my arms.

I can feel his eyes on me, and he chuckles. “Yes, and you’ll have to get used to it, wife,” he says just before the elevator doors open to a gorgeous ivory and gold entryway. 

A sweeping staircase leading upstairs is on the right, while a large living room with a bar and entertainment section kitted out with a god-honest fireplace is on the left. The place even smells expensive, I’m sure he uses Tom Ford candles or something.

“Welcome home, I guess,” he says, loosening his bowtie as I continue to walk into the penthouse. “I have to get to work, so I won’t be much company. Lucille will show you to your room.”

With that, my so-called husband walks past me and leaves me standing alone on the landing. I sigh as I watch him walk away and look down at the beautiful dress straight out of my wedding dreams. 

Everything today was basically out of my dreams; from the church to the big wedding, the dress, and the reception. I act as if I hated the entire thing when I loved it… the only problem was my mother wasn’t there and my husband isn’t the one I want at all.

A petite, older blonde woman walks out and smiles at me. She introduces herself as Lucille and leads me up to what would be my bedroom, then leaves me alone. The room isn’t large, but it’s spacious and I’m pretty sure the size of the walk-in is the size of my own living room back home.

The soft bed faces the floor-to-ceiling windows where I can see the Manhattan skyline clearly. I spot Klaus laying on the sofa of a reading nook in front of one of the windows, one I’m definitely going to use soon.

“Hey, Klausy,” I say and walk over to him. He lifts up his head and gives me a light ‘prrow’ when I stroke his fur. It’s his first night here in the villa like me, and I can tell he’s agitated. He doesn’t like it here any more than I do. “This is going to be our home for a little while, so we better suck it up.”

I remove the veil from my head and slowly start to take the pins out of my hair. A sob is threatening to bubble up in my chest and past my lips when I push it down and square my shoulders. You can’t cry now, Leia; you’re doing this for her.

Taking in a deep breath, I move over to the walk-in and my eyes widen when I see my clothes from home are here already. That, along with an entirely new wardrobe. I clench my jaw when I see the modest clothing, knowing Christian must have told his personal shopper to get these for me.

I want to hate it; I want to hate him, but seeing the lush cashmere sweaters and gorgeous Louboutin heels, platforms, and boots, I can’t bring myself to feel that way. Damn it, I’ll have to thank him in the morning, seeing as Alexander gave me two weeks off.

It’s supposed to be our honeymoon, but there’s no way I’m going anywhere alone with that horndog of a man. With another clenching of my jaw, I walk over to the vanity, remove my makeup and pull the zipper of my dress down.

The only problem is I can’t flipping reach the goddarn zipper.

“Ah, fucksteaks,” I grumble, remembering Lucille telling me she’s turning in for the night so she won’t be able to help me. That means I have to call Mr. Scowly - great stuff.

I pick up my cell phone and scroll down to his number, reluctant to call or ask him for help, but I’m not about to cut into this gorgeous thing. Besides, I can’t even breathe because of the steel boning, so help it is.

The phone rings five times before he answers. “Red?” I can hear the frown in his voice.

Argh, I hate that nickname. “Uh, yeah. I, uh… need your help,” I stutter and feel my face growing red. “I can’t get out of this dress.”

There’s silence for a few seconds before he starts laughing, and my face grows even redder. “You don’t have to laugh-”

“I’ll be up in a sec,” he says and kills the call. I blink at the dial tone and it takes a few seconds to realize what he’s just said… He’s coming in here now and I’ve just let my hair down and removed all my makeup.

Okay, why am I getting so anxious about this? It’s not like I care what he thinks I look like without makeup! A knock on the door and the flip of my stomach tells me that I do care because not only does my makeup make me feel beautiful, but it hides my thousands of freckles.

The bane of my existence and the subject of constant bullying throughout my childhood. Now the man who can’t stand me will see them too - this day is shaping up to be great.

I take a deep breath and walk over to the door, but as soon as it opens, I turn my back and listen as he walks inside. “I can’t… reach the zipper, sorry,” I say, not sure what I’m apologizing for, really.

His footsteps echo through the room, and my heart hammers hard against my ribcage. He doesn’t say a word, but I can feel the heat coming from his body when he reaches for the zipper and his fingers accidentally touch my back.

I gasp when I feel his warm fingers against my cool skin and when he pulls the zipper all the way down, it’s like I can finally breathe again.

“Thank you-” I say and spin around without thinking.

His eyes slightly widen when he sees my now completely nude face and I find myself gripping the front of my dress. The red in my face now blazes from the tips of my ears for some reason I hold my breath while waiting for him to say something.

“You’re welcome,” he says and walks back toward my door, but just as he gets there, he turns around and gives me a smile. “You look better without the makeup.”

With that bombshell, he finally leaves me alone to wonder what the fuck just happened. Was he just nice to me? The Christian Moore smiled at me and gave me a compliment? Damn, I think I had too much wine tonight. Time for a shower.

Fuck, why did the bath have to look so gorgeous too? I’ll never need a spa day again! But the bath will have to wait for another day, for now, I’m simply hopping into a shower and heading to bed to sleep this weird day away.

After a gorgeous shower, I waddle over to the soft bed and sink into it with a huge smile on my face. Damn, everything in this room is perfect and lush. I’m finding it difficult to find fault with this home, not that I want to since it will be mine for the next few months.

I’m about to fall asleep when I see a text from Lucas wanting to meet me and Delilah for lunch when he’s back in town tomorrow. Since I’m supposed to be on honeymoon for the next two weeks and I have nothing to do, I respond with a definite yes.

No way am I staying in this penthouse all day.