Marie
How did I allow myself to be so completely duped?
We were on intermission from the play. It was fine—a high-quality, lavish production—but slightly less enjoyable without his presence.
My sister was just as furious, silently beating herself up for missing the obvious trap. I mean, as a future, humanity-saving doctor-spy-ninja-goddess, she ought to possess superior critical thinking.
Perhaps I was just bitter. I kept wondering what he was doing on that boat, and more importantly, with whom.
"Marie, cease this mental flagellation."
I snapped out of my dark thoughts just as Yary and Zerile arrived with several other acquaintances for introductions. They all asked the same question: "...and your husband?"
"Oh, he is dedicating some much-needed time to his Polo Club friends," I managed, having to pretend I knew about this arrangement all along, solely to avoid embarrassing myself further.
It was infuriating, as it was a direct reminder of how expertly we had been fooled.
"Try and call him," Ayshe urged me in the restroom.
"That would betray my genuine irritation," I protested.
"But we are genuinely irritated!" She lifted her arms in defeat.
I dialed his number and waited an uncomfortably long time before he finally picked up. The line was immediately filled with a cacophony of screams and shouts.
"Are... are they actually howling like wolves?" Ayshe asked, aghast.
"Hello? Asin!?"
"...Yes, hello?"
"Hey."
"Who is this?"
I closed my eyes and let out a short, sharp laugh of utter frustration. He never failed to further grate on my nerves.
"Very funny. Also, thank you for expertly ditching us at the opera. It was genuinely quite clever," I conceded, unable to resist a backhanded compliment.
"...Seriously, who is this?"
"Asin!"
"Oh! Sorry, my dear wife. I never explicitly stated we would attend, did I?"
I could practically see his triumphant grin. In the background, there was clearly a wild party taking place.
"No, you did not. At least one of us is having a blast. I just figured I would check in."
"Is that so? Tell me, would you prefer to be here... with me?" he asked.
I ignored Ayshe vehemently mouthing at me to put the call on speakerphone and turned my back to her.
"Wouldn't you?"
His pregnant silence was all the confirmation I required.
I took the small win and hung up, feeling a wave of triumph wash over me.
"What? What are they doing? Why are you smiling like that?" Ayshe demanded.
I checked my reflection in the mirror and suddenly felt much better about the remaining half of the play. "Nothing. They are clearly having a raucous party on that yacht, judging by the noise."
"Then why are you so happy?" she asked.
I took her by the arm, as the intermission was about to end. "I honestly don't know. Come on, let's not be late."
---
Oliver
The party had reached its zenith... but Asin was nowhere to be found. I eventually located him at the stern of the boat, nursing an empty bottle. I walked over.
"Now, tell me why you aren't at some table attempting the Tootsie Roll with the ladies?"
He laughed, without turning around. "Good times." He raised the empty bottle in a mock toast.
"Yeah. Last month, maybe," I smiled gently.
Although I understood his perception of time was severely skewed by everything that had happened. It was hard to believe how far removed we were now from those peaceful days, mentally at least.
"Marie called. She is... intuitive," he smiled softly.
Ah. Now the missing piece.
"But you're correct. Let's join the fun," his demeanor instantly shifted, though I knew his heart wouldn't truly be in it.
"Do you happen to have Ayshe's number?" I blurted out.
He looked back, momentarily surprised. "I do not. But I can easily procure it."
"No... no..."
"Yeah." He pulled out his phone and started to dial. "Oh, right. Damn opera," he put the phone away. "I'll ask Marie and send it to you tomorrow."
He walked over and clapped my back. I started to backpedal slightly.
"I didn't mean to..."
"Shut... shut up. It's fine." He led me back toward the action.
We eventually sent the younger crew members home and navigated the yacht back to port.
"Come on. It's profoundly late, and we drank... drunk? We are drunk," Asin stumbled slightly. "Go to your room."
"Hahaha... yes, Papa!"
"Hahaha!"
We were definitely not fine. Our voices echoed through the sprawling yard in the early morning stillness. We didn't need to be silent, as the house was the size of a mountain.
"Alright. Good night... or morning."
Asin wobbled away, and I made my way to my room in the left wing.
The left wing.
This house was utterly ridiculous.
I managed to pull myself together when I ran into some early-rising maids but made it inside my room successfully.
The bed wasn't quite as comfortable as my own, but never mind that—Ayshe was in it!
This isn't my room.
Left wing, right wing... it's difficult to get confused, yet here I was, profoundly disoriented.
She was a tiny person, yet she occupied the entire expanse of the bed. She was wearing rabbit pajamas—amusing, certainly.
I was about to make a hasty exit when she suddenly opened her eyes, startled, as if I had dropped something loud.
"Who!... Oh. Oliver! W-why are you here?"
Oh, no. We had been alone twice now, and both times I was drunk? W-what... why does fate have such a perverse sense of humor?
"Excuse me. I confused my left... from my right."
"What?" she asked, confused.
"It's not my room."
It seemed that complicated sentences were currently beyond my capability.
To her credit, she understood from my slurred speech and disheveled state that this was a repeat of the first night. Despite the early hour, she was remarkably sharp.
She got up and helped me steady myself. "Where is your room?" she asked, her voice steady.
"Left wing... It's Oliver's Castle," I chuckled weakly.
"What?..."
I wisely decided to shut up, as every word I uttered was a potential enemy. I wasn't even a regular heavy drinker—just chronically unlucky.
She helped me across the house until we reached my door. Fourth from the LEFT, not the RIGHT.
"Ahh... Oliver's Castle." She saw the sign I made when I was a child. "I understand now."
I managed a grateful smile, and she led me inside.
"I apologize for this. The prank was Asin's," I mumbled as she sat me down.
"Don't worry. Although you did play along extremely well. Don't worry, the play was good. Long, but good."
I liked her smile. It was pure, utterly without hidden motivation or pretense. That was a rare quality indeed.
"We were just having a party. Innocent, really. Nothing... crazy."
Why are you justifying yourself to her?
"It's not my business what you do, or with whom. Are you fine now?"
She sounded angry, and for some inexplicable reason, it made me feel a surge of happiness.
"I am. Sorry again for..."
"Are you angry at me for what I said to Marie at the wedding?"
The question surprised me, though it shouldn't have. My sudden, distinct change in behavior had been painfully obvious.
"I was."
"Not anymore?"
I thought about it. I think the word was was. It perfectly summarized my current, evolving feelings. "No."
"Good. Now get inside the covers. I'll bring some water and maybe a bucket, if I can locate one. Sleep. Good night."
She left as quickly as the wind.
Then and there, I silently promised myself never to be drunk in her presence ever again.
---
Marie
I slept magnificently.
We got home around 2 AM. They were still out, but I felt surprisingly unbothered. The bed was comfort incarnate—large enough for five grown human beings and their collective baggage.
I woke just as the sun hit my face, tinting my vision a comfortable orange hue.
I felt a hand across my neck... except it wasn't my hand.
I opened my eyes and saw my husband sleeping next to me, like we were a normal, genuinely coupled pair. He was wearing the clothes from last night and smelled as if he had literally fallen into a barrel of the hard stuff.
Oh, Asin.
I gently lifted his hand and laid it down beside him, slithering out of bed like a snake.
Lord God. Shoes and all. Filthy. What kind of chaotic headspace was he in to just collapse like that?
Should I wake him? I opted for a shower instead.
He must have had quite the night. I wondered if Ayshe was up yet.
I called her after I got out, and to my surprise, she actually picked up.
"You won't believe..."
"Marie, you will never guess..."
It sounded like we both had a fresh story to tell. I let her go first.
"...I see. So Oliver finally opened up."
"Like a drunken flower. Or something more manly that opens," she laughed robustly.
"Well, I guess we found one each... except mine was in my bed!"
"As in, you two...?"
"Don't be ridiculous. He just fell into the bed, clothes and all." I peered out of the bathroom and saw he was still soundly asleep. "...He must have been drunk out of his mind."
"Or... he just desperately wanted to sleep next to you," she theorized. I could tell by her voice she was finally in a good mood.
"God willing, one day. Anyway, I'm going now. I guess I'll wake him," I smiled in anticipation.
"Should I wake Oliver as well?" she asked, clearly excited.
"Do as you wish. Bye."
I walked out quickly before I lost this chance and discreetly took a few pictures. Who knew if I would have this opportunity again? I zoomed in. He did look attractive. As in, I would be interested even if he showed up without all of this Martell baggage.
He started rustling, and I quickly put my phone away.
Watching the confusion melt into realization on his face was intensely satisfying.
"Good morning." I sat down on the edge of the bed.
It was impressive how quickly he dealt with his own embarrassment and simply shrugged it off.
"Morning. How was the play?" He lay back down, smiling lazily.
"The play was okay. How was... the party?"
"Okay. Tame," he shrugged.
I snorted and pushed him off the bed. "Go and shower then! We'll be late for breakfast, and you smell."
He frowned but agreed and walked into the bathroom voluntarily.
I lay back down.
Maybe it was tame. I think I managed to ruin it for him when we talked.
It was a good morning.
---
Ayshe
I decided against waking Oliver. It's not like my sister and I were in the same shoes.
Despite my early interference and that silly contract, Marie and Asin were clearly head over heels for one another. It was just a matter of time, really. This whole GOD situation would definitely make their process more interesting to observe.
But me and this boy? We needed a more solid foundation than a series of accidental, drunken encounters.
Also... I looked at my phone. Stuart has been going nuts trying to reach me. I decided it was best not to answer and acclimatize myself better to my new surroundings first.
At breakfast, my sister and her husband arrived late. They looked wonderful together, like a pair of perfectly matched Barbie dolls. The family seemed to feel the same way I did; they always seemed to steal the air from the room when they arrived.
The concept of breakfast here meant every single dish you could possibly conceive of, and some that your mind was incapable of imagining. Other than his grandfather and Aunt Derya, whom we still hadn't met due to some "business up north," everyone was in attendance.
Yanam Martell was more interested in the play than the others. He told us stories about his own theater obsession and lamented that he and his wife couldn't join.
Oliver and Asin were a comedic duo, constantly taking food from each other's plates. This seemed like a long-established routine, as no one else at the table reacted.
"So... how did the rest of the morning go?" I leaned over and asked Marie in a low tone.
"Nothing worthwhile. It will be incredibly hard to embarrass him. Teflon should be his name, I tell you."
"Why Teflon?"
"Teflon? Nothing sticks? Teflon Don? The movie. Come on, watch a movie sometime."
Whoa. What are movies? Idiot.
Meanwhile, Asin was involved in something interesting with his mother.
"...You will tell them no."
His mother was having none of it. "You know how critical that charity is to my happiness... and YOURS."
He recoiled a little but held his ground firmly.
"For the love of God, why are we required at these things? I'm not doing it," he shrugged.
"Are you instructing me to take your wife alone?"
"Let us consult her. Darling?" He turned to Marie.
"W-what is the question?" She sat up straight, instantly alert.
"Do you want me to attend some stuffy fundraising dinner?"
Be careful, Marie. He was using clever wording again. If she answered no, it would give him the escape he wanted.
"...I feel like it's important to demonstrate our unity to society, my love," she smiled naturally.
Nice one, Sis!
Asin's happy smile dissolved into a grumpy frown. "Fine. We are leaving straight after dinner. I don't want to hear another word about it..."
He cut off his mother, who was attempting to protest. Oliver had a good laugh watching them. I liked boys who could relax and enjoy the small stuff.
"Come, brother. Let's get ahead of this," Oliver suddenly stood up.
Asin nodded and followed. "Where to?" Marie asked him.
"We promised to collect your parents and grandparents, or have you forgotten during all these dreams of unity and whatever else?"
She let the cutting question go and looked at me, and we both followed them outside.
"It's nice of you to pick them up. Very husband-like," Marie teased him, waiting for the driver to pull up.
He just gave her a funny look and clapped his hands mockingly. "Bravo. How quickly you come up with these witty one-liners, yet you couldn't remember the legal document you signed?"
"I remembered just fine, dear. That's one transgression down of three," she smiled confidently.
"I will enforce it," he promised.
"Hmph." She turned away dismissively.
"W-what... what was that!? I will!" He stood his ground.
Oliver walked beside me. "Looking at them, one would genuinely mistake them for an actual couple."
I looked up at him. "They are closer than most."
He suddenly looked away, becoming intensely interested in the ocean horizon.
The car pulled around, and we were confined in the small space until we reached the airport.
"We need to stop for gifts," Asin turned to my sister.
Marie immediately began listing their preferences. "Hmm... Mother loves pearls. My father, rare bottles of wine. Granny enjoys art..."
"Oh, does she paint or sculpt?" He interrupted.
"She used to paint. Now she says her hands are a mess," Marie grimaced.
"She should have the doctors here examine them. I bet they are able to help. I'll have them schedule an appointment for her."
"Thank you. It would make my grandfather happy as well, with the articles still looming," she said, a little embarrassed.
"Don't worry. Those will never be published." Asin reached out and squeezed her hand.
"Hmm. Thank you. Very husband-like..."
She looked out the window to conceal her smile as he let go of her hand and massaged his temple. "Here we go. I can't get enough of your dry humor, dear. It's like being married to the British."
"What would you know about them?" She turned towards him.
"More than you."
"Really?"
"Really... really," he mocked, imitating her tone.
I looked at Oliver. And he says like a real couple.
They already are one.