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Ines smiled bitterly. “He can be stubborn and withdrawn. Like his father, he prefers to swallow his problems until they burst out of him. I hope he’ll be a good husband. I know he has it in him, but sometimes he’s his own worst enemy.”
I was surprised by Ines’s openness, but at the same time relieved that she didn’t see Samuel as some sort of saint.
Ines opened the last suitcase, and a heap of lingerie fell out. They were mostly new. I had bought them with Samuel in mind, though I really enjoyed wearing sexy underwear for my own well-being too.
“No reason to be embarrassed.” Ines picked up my underwear, then put it in the drawer I had picked for it.
We finished unpacking in the early afternoon and had coffee together.
“Would you mind if I take a dip in your pool? We don’t have one, and it’s been too long since I’ve swum.”
“Of course I don’t mind. You can have one of my bikinis.” I was glad that Ines wanted to spend a bit more time with me.Maybe she could sense that I longed for company today. I really liked her, which was a relief.
While Ines swam a few laps in the pool, I researched things to do in Minneapolis apart from the charity work I wanted to begin as soon as possible. I stumbled upon an inclusive dance studio that had several dance courses for people with disabilities or, as they put it, differently abled. I loved the term. Everything from breakdance over jazz dance, standard dances to ballet. I felt a deep ache inside me, not necessarily for ballet but for dancing, for moving my body in rhythm with music.
It was a public studio, so I wasn’t sure how happy Samuel would be if I went there. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to tell him about it. Maybe I could just ask Leo to take me there and pretend he was my husband. Though, Samuel probably wouldn’t be impressed by such a move.
I’d simply discuss my plans with him tonight after asking him about F.
My belly constricted with nerves just thinking about that confrontation.
When Ines returned to the porch after taking a shower, once again perfectly dressed in a skirt and short-sleeved blouse, she sank down beside me.
“It’s getting late. I should leave so you can have a nice evening with Samuel.”
I wasn’t so sure about the nice part, but I definitely needed to be alone with Samuel.
My phone beeped with a text from Samuel telling me that he’d be late, and I should eat without him.
“Samuel’s working late.”
Her face pinched in disapproval. “Would you like me to stay?”
“Are you sure? What about your husband?”
“I’ll send him a message. He had a business lunch anyway. I’m sure he won’t mind.”
Eating with Ines was nice, but my mind kept drifting to Samuel and what he was doing. Ines hadn’t mentioned her husband working late, but wouldn’t he if things were so busy?
I didn’t want to be the jealous bride, but I wondered if Samuel was with another woman, with that F.
The whispers of other people finally got to me, their assumption that a man like Samuel would have a mistress in a marriage with someone like me. As if I was incapable of fulfilling his needs. And even if that were the case, that didn’t mean the vows of fidelity were void.
I needed to know. The chances of getting an honest answer probably weren’t too high, but maybe his reaction would give him away.
When Samuel finally came home late at night, he looked surprised when I was still up and waiting for him in the bedroom. I put down the book I’d been reading and looked at him. My bravado dwindled seeing his eyes. I hated conflict, and this early on in our marriage, I could do lasting damage, but I needed to speak my mind, or I’d go insane.
“Are you all right?” Samuel asked as he opened his cuffs. For some reason, the movement made me long for his touch, for what we had on our wedding night.
The muscles in his forearms flexed, and I could hardly look away. It would have been easier to keep watching him and duck away from the questions tingling on my tongue.
I cleared my throat. “You agreed to marry me.”
Samuel’s brows drew together. He was obviously unsure where I was going with this. I, myself, wasn’t sure how to speak my mind.
“Maybe I’m not what some people in our world consider a good catch, and perhaps some people even believe I can’t be a good wife, but I’m just as capable as any other woman. I also expect to be treated with respect, and for me, that includesfaithfulness or, at the very least, honesty. If you are with someone else, I want to know.”
Maybe this would mark the end of our marriage before it had even really begun. My mouth turned dry when the last words left my mouth.