Chapter 4 – The Shared Room
I spent the entire day locked up in my studio. I had no desire to talk to anyone, least of all to run into Gael. The news that Bella had woken up kept echoing in my mind. Why did they hide this from me? Why—when I’m her sister? I agreed to this absurd marriage just for her, for her well-being. And yet… now she despises me.
I wandered aimlessly in front of the canvas, but I couldn’t paint a single line. The pain was stronger than any inspiration.
I grabbed my phone. I couldn’t take the uncertainty in my chest anymore.
It rang twice before Mom picked up.
—“Aurora, sweetie…”
—“Hi, Mom. How are you?”
—“I’m fine, dear. And you? How’s your husband treating you?”
—“What do you think? I barely see him. But I’m not calling about him. Why didn’t you tell me Bella woke up?”
An awkward silence followed. I felt the line burning in my fingers. Then came her sigh, heavy with guilt, painful for me to hear.
—“I’m sorry… she’s been asking for you, but when your father told her you married her fiancé… she lost it.”
—“Didn’t you explain I did this for her? That I only agreed so she could get the best treatment?”
—“Yes, sweetie. But she’s confused. She feels betrayed. I promise, once she feels better, I’ll talk to her about you again.”
—“Fine… If she doesn’t want to see me, I’ll accept it. Tell her I love her. And if she asks me to, I’ll divorce Gael immediately.”
—“Take care, dear…”
I hung up with a knot in my chest. I felt betrayed by everyone. My sister, my mother, my father… even myself. I cried in silence, my forehead resting on my knees, like a lost little girl.
Just then, two soft knocks on the door made me look up.
—“Ma’am…” It was Juana’s voice, calm and soft. “Mr. Gael would like you to join him for dinner.”
I looked at her in confusion. Dinner with me? Now?
—“Are you sure he asked for me?”
—“Yes. He said, ‘Tell her to come down for dinner.’”
—“Alright,” I replied. “I’ll go change.”
I went up to my room, my stomach in knots. I showered slowly, as if trying to wash away all the anger. I put on something comfortable: fitted jeans and a white silk blouse. Nothing flashy. Nothing Bella would have chosen.
When I came downstairs, the dining room was already set. The lights glowed warmly above the long polished table. Gael was there, flawless as always, dressed in a black suit and holding a glass of wine. He looked at me with that unreadable expression of his.
—“You took your time.”
—“I didn’t know I was expected to share the table with you. You were very clear on our wedding night,” I replied coldly.
For a moment, he looked surprised. Then he took a sip and turned his head away.
—“Juana, you may serve.”
We ate in complete silence. I barely touched the food, only pushing it around with my fork. My stomach was tight, my throat tense.
—“Aren’t you going to eat?”
—“I have no appetite. I came because Juana asked me to.”
—“It’s your duty as a wife to have dinner with me.”
I shot him a scornful look.
—“As far as I remember, you don’t care that I’m your wife. You said we’d only pretend in public. And there’s no one here to fool.”
—“The staff could talk.”
I let out a bitter laugh.
—“Now you care? I’ve spent a week alone in this house. They already talk. They look at me with pity. They think you married me out of obligation… and they’re not wrong.”
—“That will change from now on. We’ll dine together.”
I didn’t reply. What was the point of arguing? It was obvious he only cared about his image—not about us.
—“Ma’am, you haven’t eaten anything,” Juana interrupted as she cleared the plate.
—“Sorry, Juana. I just don’t feel like eating.”
—“You shouldn’t skip meals. If you eat, I’ll bring you a slice of blueberry tart. How about that?”
Her kind gaze moved me. I noticed Gael was also looking at me, curious. But I ignored him.
—“Alright. I’ll eat. I know how hard you work,” I said, smiling at Juana.
And I did. The tart was delicious. For the first time in days, I felt something close to relief.
—“I didn’t know you liked sweets so much,” Gael commented.
—“My mom used to bake them when we were little. Bella didn’t like them, so I’d eat for both of us. I didn’t want Mom to feel bad.”
—“And you don’t gain weight from all that sugar?”
—“No. I work out. Besides, I’m one of a kind,” I smiled for the first time that evening.
He nodded with a curious look… as if it pained him to discover something about me.
I stood and went up to my room. It had been a long, exhausting day in every sense.
I brushed my teeth and put on my usual pajamas: panties and an oversized sweater. Nothing special. Just something comfy to sleep in.
I was about to get into bed when I heard the door open. I thought it was Juana bringing water, so I spoke without looking.
—“Juana, leave the pitcher on the table, please.”
No response.
The sound of running water in the shower made me turn. And there he was. Gael. Naked. In the glass bathroom.
—“What the hell…?” I muttered, frozen.
The en-suite bathroom had clear glass walls, which had never bothered me—until now. I slid under the covers and covered my face with a book, waiting for him to finish so I could yell at him. But when he came out, he was wearing only a towel around his waist.
—“This is my room. Why didn’t you use another?”
—“Because I’m your husband. There’s nothing wrong with you seeing me naked.”
—“Pervert!”
He smirked shamelessly and walked into the closet.
I turned off the light, seething with rage. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. But the mattress shifted. He was getting into bed.
I jumped up.
—“What are you doing?”
—“It’s our bed. I’ve changed my mind. If we don’t sleep together, it won’t be believable that we married for love.”
—“You said we wouldn’t share a bed.”
—“Relax. I have no intention of touching you.”
He looked at me with maddening calm. I held his gaze for a few seconds… then turned my back without replying. It wasn’t worth the fight.
But in the dark, as I listened to his breathing beside me, I realized something more terrifying than his presence:
That maybe, one day, the distance between us… might start to hurt.