"Hey, babe," came Zara's cheerful voice over the phone.
Alex sat cross-legged on her bed, typing on her laptop. Her headphones rested around her neck — for once, she wasn't listening to music. "Hi, betrayer," she said dryly.
Zara's laughter practically radiated through the phone. "Are you pissed at me, love?"
"Pissed doesn't even come close. You didn't even check up on me for a whole day — with a man I barely know. Wow. Best friend of the year, I guess."
"Oh, come on, love. You can't blame me. I just wanted to give you time for your… nuptial rites." Zara's voice was dripping with mischief.
"Bitch!" Alex accused, earning another peal of laughter.
"I'm sorry, love. So—how are you guys doing?"
"Fine."
Fine ought to be enough.
They hadn't spoken since they got back from Elizabeth's house. Alex had gone straight to her room, locked the door, and fallen asleep early — skipping dinner without a second thought. She was used to that.
The next morning, she woke up early and made breakfast — mostly to avoid him. She had held her breath when Julian came out of his room, placing his food somewhere obvious before retreating again.
He'd lingered outside her door a moment longer after finishing, but said nothing.
The whole day passed that way — Alex in her room, stepping out only to cook. And she planned to do the same today. Her three-day confinement was almost over — today was the last day. Tomorrow, he'd probably go to work. Not that she cared. That suited her just fine.
---
"Hm… 'Fine' isn't enough," Zara said. "Tell me everything."
So Alex did.
When she finished, Zara exhaled sharply. "So, do you plan to keep avoiding him? Can't you talk it out?"
Alex scoffed. "Talk it out? Only real couples do that. I don't owe him an explanation."
"Okay," Zara said, amused. "Let me rephrase. I didn't ask what you think of him. I asked what you feel, mi amor."
Alex sighed. That was so Zara — always trying to peel back the layers she worked hard to keep sealed.
"Well," Alex began slowly, "I actually do think he's a jerk. But he's also… nice sometimes. I feel comfortable around him once in a while, like I know him more than I should. Other times, he feels distant. Like he's from another world — which he is. I guess he's just used to getting whatever he wants because he's rich. A control freak."
"Really? Has he ever tried to use his money to bamboozle you or force you into something?"
Alex chewed on her lower lip. "Well… not really. But the things he says sometimes — I don't know."
Zara's sigh was loud. "Love, are you sure you're not mad at him just because he's a rich guy who married you without really knowing you? Are you mad that he took your freedom?"
Alex froze. Tears pricked her eyes before she could stop them.
"I don't know, Zara," her voice cracked. "I mean, what can I say? This whole thing feels so weird. How do I pretend to be a wife to someone I barely know? Cooking, sharing space — it's insane. Maybe I am mad that he took my freedom, but what can I do? I'm tired, Zara. I just want out."
The tears fell — uninvited, unwanted. She wiped them away quickly, angry at herself for being so weak.
For a while, Zara said nothing. Only the soft sound of Alex's quiet breaths filled the silence. Then Zara's voice came, softer now.
"I'm sorry, love. I can't pretend to know how that feels. And the fact that you weren't even given a reason makes it worse. But I do know this — you're strong, Alex. Stronger than you think. You're a gem, someone meant to be loved and cared for. Tell me… does he try to take care of you?"
Alex nodded, as if Zara could see her. "He tries. Or something. I don't know."
"I think he does," Zara said gently. "And maybe… maybe he's trying to make this work too. Have you ever thought that he might not have wanted the marriage either?"
Alex frowned. "No, but… he never said so. He made it look like he chose me when we met before the wedding."
Still, the thought lingered. There was something different about him lately — the confidence from before had faded, replaced with quiet restraint. Except for a few moments, like when he mentioned her scars before they married.
"Maybe you're right," she said finally.
"Yeah, maybe I am," Zara teased lightly. "So, can you try cutting him some slack? The rich-boy attitude is probably how he was raised. Maybe he doesn't even realize he sounds that way."
"Maybe," Alex admitted.
"So here's my suggestion," Zara said. "Give the guy a chance. I don't mean fall for him — just… coexist. Who knows? He might eventually open up, tell you how he feels about all this. Maybe he's just as trapped as you are."
Alex considered it. "Alright. I'll try."
"That's my girl." Zara's tone brightened again. "The only person with the real answers is your mum. But she won't tell us anything if she knows your marriage is on fire. So while I work on her, you work on him. Think of it as undercover work, yeah?"
A reluctant laugh escaped Alex. "Okay, Zara. Thanks, dear. What would I do without you?"
"Drop dead," Zara replied dryly, making Alex smile for real this time.
"So what now?" Zara asked.
Alex shrugged. "I don't know. But I'll try not to be hostile. Maybe we'll talk over dinner."
"Good. Keep me posted."
"Of course. Now — what about your exams—?"
They chatted for a while longer before hanging up. When the line went dead, Alex lay back on her bed with a sigh, staring at the ceiling.
Dinner.
She wasn't sure what she'd say to him, but for the first time, she was willing to try.