her time taking pictures of people in love than actually going out and winning her own man.” Linneah gave me a smirk.
“Do you consider yourself a workaholic?” Rainbow asked me.
“What’s wrong with working?” I demanded. “I’m certainly not going to rely on Chris to support me. I can take care of myself. I don’t need a man. I don’t need to be married.”
“And I’m sure Chris would be better off not shackled to you,” Linneah shot at me. She narrowed her eyes. “You need to be careful, Grace. Men like sex, and they want their wives to fulfill their marriage obligations. If you don’t take care of Chris, someone might come along and show him what he’s missing. Someone who can make all his fantasies come true.” Her face was triumphant.
Hot anger coiled in my gut.
You don’t even like Chris.
But it didn’t matter. I would not allow Linneah to have him.
20
Chris
“Married life seems to be agreeing with you,” Dr. Kwame boomed once we were all seated around the table in the studio space where we were filming our group therapy session.
The guys around me grinned and smiled. None of them were as amazing as I was. Short, balding, doughy, and a bit gangly—compared to them, I was a god amongst men. I basked in my own superiority.
“Any issues, any concerns? Anyone having any trouble adjusting to having a wife?”
“It’s awesome!” Teddy gushed. He was sweating under the lights. “I love having a wife to come home to. She’s so supportive.”
“My girl cooks dinner every night,” the bald guy said. “She makes a mean squash ravioli.”
“My wife is super supportive. She gives me back rubs and asks me how my day at work was. I feel like a better man. She inspires me to want to make positive improvements in my life,” the short guy said fervently.
“And what about you, Chris?” the older gray-haired therapist asked. “You’ve been rather quiet. How’s married life treating you?”
I shrugged. “I haven’t found it much different than my old life, to be honest.”
Grace was for sure not making me dinner, giving me back rubs, or asking me how my day went.
“She and I just sort of do our own thing.”
“You’re not roommates,” Teddy said with a laugh. “You have to be a partner.”
I scowled at him, but he just gave me a blithe smile.
“Teddy’s right,” Dr. Kwame said. “You are supposed to be in a romantic partnership for life. You need to take steps to integrate Grace into your everyday life. Maybe the group can suggest things you can do with Grace?”
I gritted my teeth. In college, I had been top of my class—I had studied mathematics and statistics, graduated early, then completed two master’s degrees. I had written papers on statistics published in numerous journals, and I ran one of the most profitable hedge funds in the world. Yet now I had to sit there and take it while these guys gave me tips on how to be with a woman.
“You should plan date nights,” Teddy said. “I like to have a surprise picnic for Linneah when she gets back from helping her friend with wedding planning.”
“Taking baths together is fun,” the bald guy said. “And it always has a happy ending!”
“So you all have had sex with your wives. That’s an important step in building intimacy.”
I froze, hoping my face didn’t give me away.
Teddy patted my arm. “It’s okay if you haven’t had sex with Grace yet, Chris,” he said. “Everyone does things on their own schedule.”
Fuck.
“I could have sex with Grace if I wanted to,” I seethed, “but I don’t.”
“You don’t want to have sex with your wife?” the bald guy said in shock.
“That’s very concerning,” Dr. Kwame said, brow furrowed. “Why don’t we unpack that, Chris?”
“There’s nothing to unpack.”
“Grace is a beautiful woman, and I sense a lot of passion between you two.”
“There’s no passion, just the aggravation of two people stuck in the same trap.”
“Marriage isn’t a trap,” the gangly guy said. “It’s a partnership. You’re on the same journey together, both of you rowing the same boat to get to your destination.”
“No, thanks. I don’t need anyone on a journey with me,” I said, standing up. “And my boat isn’t a rowboat. It’s a mega yacht, and I’m perfectly fine on my own.”
Grace was waiting in the lobby of the production studio when I stormed out. She looked up from her phone.
“What a waste of time.”
“I know, right? Unbelievable. Like these people have any idea who we are,” she