She was still sprawled on the table, but when the moment passed and he didn’t say anything she got up and turned to look at him. He didn’t look at her, he just pulled up his pants and went back to sit down. He sipped at his wine, and something in her finally began to hurt. That’s when he spoke again.
“Things will be a little different now, Marie.” He finally looked up at her, those deep brown eyes clouded with something she didn’t understand. “You’re mine now, you see? Mine.”
She opened her mouth, couldn’t think of what to say, and stood up. Without a word, she left the room. She’d always been his, she thought as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Why didn’t he see that?
8
Life goes on, Marie thought a few days later. She was in her old car and on her way into New Orleans for more shopping. Matteo wanted to buy her a new car, but she’d refused that, for now. The old Ford was a part of her life and always had been. Now clothes, that was a totally different matter.
She parked at a boutique and went inside. She had on a $300 blue silk dress that was slouchy at the top but fitted around her hips, a pair of black tights, and dark-brown, leather ankle boots. She looked the part, especially after she’d had her dark hair trimmed, shaped, and styled. Matteo wanted his wife to present an image that reflected well on him.
That’s why she hadn’t complained when he gave her a long list of clothes to buy with things she could buy and things she couldn’t. He wanted her to look the part of a rich wife, right down to the manicure on her fingers and the earrings in her ears. She had no idea how much she’d spent so far, and he didn’t seem to care.
She’d spotted a pair of boots at this boutique yesterday but hadn’t had room to put any more bags in the car, so she’d decided to come back. She walked in and a blond, young woman came out, eager to please. Marie found it amusing now, how people were so eager to talk to her, eager to know more about her, especially back at home. People in the grocery store actually smiled at her once they’d heard about her marriage.
The woman at the bank had even said her name, Marie, instead of the usual “Miss” she called her. Marie put the fancy credit card down and sat down on the settee the woman directed her to. She tried on the boots she wanted, another pair, and two sweater dresses. She was buying clothes for their excursion to New York. It would be cold up there and she would need clothes for going out in, for staying home but expecting company in, and loungewear.
She had a dozen pairs of silk pajamas, nighties that were warm and some that were sexy, lingerie, shoes, and so much more than she’d ever owned before. She probably had more clothes than she’d ever owned, in total, throughout her life. She even had evening dresses that she wasn’t sure she’d get to wear, but she owned them now.
On top of that, Matteo had paid all of the bills that were owed, and the house was hers, there if she ever wanted to go back to it. Something told her that she wouldn’t, but he’d insisted she keep it, just in case. She’d planned to sell it, but maybe he was right. She might want to revisit it one day.
Marie finished her purchases and went to a small restaurant to get some lunch. Matteo told her when he left that morning that he wouldn’t be back until late in the evening, so she knew she wouldn’t leave him at home alone. Not that he minded being there alone, but she felt she should be with him if he was at home.
So far, things were… okay in their household. They didn’t talk a lot, not like they used to, and Matteo had become a little rougher when it came to sex, but she didn’t mind that. She reveled in it actually. He’d treated her like a doll when they first met, to be handled with a little more power, a little more control, was nice.
Outside of the bedroom, their life was different. He didn’t tell her what to do, where to go, or who to talk to. He did control what she wore,