His Wife

2

"You look lovely today, Mrs. Vasilievna!" Laureli said as she placed my cup of tea next to me. 

"Thank you Laureli, you look good yourself," I replied with a smile.

I had a simple, high neck black dress, with light orange, pink, and blue butterflies and a delicate belt. 

I took a sip of the mint tea and closed my eyes. The memories of last night were vivid in my mind. Although I loved last night and Alexander's gentle and loving behavior, it was very strange.

Being the wife of the richest man in town was definitely rewarding. I had a job working right alongside Alexander, I had the best chefs, the best clothes, shoes, accessories, I had cars and houses if I wanted any of it. 

I had everything that I could possibly ever need. I was spoiled with money.

But I didn't exactly have Alexander. Right after our honeymoon, he became extremely distant. He never hit me, or abused me, or yelled at me, but he limited all interactions with me. In public, he usually addressed to me as 'my wife' or 'Mrs. Vasilievna.' He would always open the doors for me and take my jackets, and let me hold his arm, but he would never kiss me, other than the cheek kiss before work. 

He would never check up on me during work, or give me hugs or any sweet gentle words. 

At home, almost instantly, we each separated into different bedrooms, and I was not allowed to come to his room or disturb him. He never really wanted to see me, so I would spend almost every night of the years alone in my room. He would kiss me incredibly rarely, and we had spent the night together only a few times during our marriage. 

The phone rang, interrupting me from my thoughts. 

"Vasiliev World Inc., how may I help?"

"Maria, clear my schedule for all of Saturday. We will be attending an evening ball."

"Yes."

He hung up and I frowned. Very unusual. Alexander never attended balls, no matter how important they were or who was hosting them. But I had to follow instructions and began to clear his schedule; rearranging meetings and events.

There were five days left before the ball, and that was short notice. As Mr. Vasiliev's wife, I had to be dressed according to his status, and according to his liking. He had a very distinct taste in style, and my appearance had to match him; I was his shadow.

I looked outside. It was already evening time, and I was waiting until he would end his work so that we could go home.

I stood up and walked to the windows. I looked down into the streets to see people laughing, talking, running, shopping. It was a very busy life down there, and thankfully, or with regret, Alexander didn't allow me to have that.