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“Jesus.” I lean on the study door to catch my breath. Maybe things were easier when he was ignoring me.

No, they weren’t. Loneliness can be a really dark place. Even if Archer is still playing the aloof husband, he’s at least talking to me. He’s not divulging all his secrets yet, but I do believe we’re making progress. I touch my fingers to my tingling lips. If only things could be like this all the time. Him saying goodbye with a kiss before going to work. Or making plans to have dinner together when he comes home.

I shake my head to chase that silly fantasy out of my mind. We’re not even close to being that kind of married couple. Until I find out what he’s hiding, or what’s holding him back, our marriage won’t work. I glance up, then I realize the answer to all my questions is behind this door. With my heart thrashing in my ears, I dart to the front door to make sure Archer is gone. When I confirm he is, I rush back to the study.

The woodwork in here is like the rest of the house, a true work of art. And just as Mary Jane promised, Archer’s office really is a spot to get cozy with a book by the fire. But I need to focus on why I’m here. I stand in the middle of the room, trying to decide where to start. I look behind the artwork. Though I know if I find a safe behind one of them, I won’t be able to open it.

I rummage through some of the drawers on the built-in shelves but only find a few files. It makes sense that he has no papers lying around. Everything these days is stored in a computer. I glance at Archer’s massive desk, framed by the snowy gardens in the background.

I doubt he would leave anything of real importance just lying around on his desk. But I search it next anyway. When I come back empty, I plop myself on his executive leather chair and blow out a breath. The idea of just asking him crosses my mind. If he were a reasonable person, I would’ve made that my plan A. Back to snooping, I swivel around on his oversized chair, taking in the leather scent that’s so him.

Looking out the window, my gaze follows the beaten path that leads to the edge of the property. How long did Archer sit in his throne-like chair watching me like an ant, before he decided to join me? I laugh. That day, he said he just wanted to warn me about the woods. Though from up here, they look just like the woods. There’s nothing scary about them. Archer just wanted to mess with me. I swivel back to face the fireplace, and my bad knee hits the lip of the table.

“Ow. Hmmm.” I hold my knee and apply pressure to ease the pain.

Being off it for more than a month has certainly helped with the aches. I had completely forgotten about it. I massage it by digging my thumb into it the way Archer did after opening night. How did he know to do that? How did he know Aloe Vera would cool the heat on my butt cheeks? For a moment, an image of him turning his own necktie into a silky set of handcuffs plays in my head. I squeeze my eyes shut and let the rush of adrenaline settle at my core.

What are you hiding, Archer?

I hit the desk in frustration, and a drawer pops open. My head snaps toward the door to make sure I’m still alone. I pull the shallow drawer open and glare at its contents.

Archer is the most controlling, ill-tempered, arrogant, self-serving, bastard I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.

Pursing my lips, I snatch my phone and slam the drawer shut. I jump to my feet and bolt for my bedroom. Once I’m settled in my own bed, I tap on the screen. I mouth a thank you when the light shines bright showing a full battery. Then I realize that the only reason the phone has a charge is because Archer probably checks it daily.

“Argh.” I make a fist and hit the bedding.

For several weeks, he’s not only had my phone in his office, but he’s also been spying on me. I have no doubt he had one of his employees hack my passcode. After I calm down, I open the phone and check my messages. There are one thousand unread messages. I click on Paul’s window first.

Paul: you ARE the black swan. Perfection. Congratulations, bitch. Drinks on me. Right now.

His text came in a few minutes after I finished Swan Lake.

Paul: hey, what’s going on? Your dad says you’re not feeling well. We’re still at the bar. Join us.

Paul: wow, your knee must be really pulling a number on you tonight. Ice it. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Paul: YOU’RE QUITTING?????

Paul: Text me back right now.

Paul: I miss you

Paul: there’s a rumor going around that your Odíle was so perfect, you actually turned into a black swan and flew away.

Paul: do black swans fly?

Paul: text me back or we’re not friends anymore.

I toss the phone on the bed while tears pelt down on it. Dad made sure everyone stayed away from me that night. Then he told them I would not be able to finish the program. Why couldn’t he wait just ten more days and let me end on a high note?

Because he doesn’t care. Selfish. Cruel.

“Stop it.” I scratch the itch on the inside of my wrist.

Of course, Dad cares. It’s the fucking mob that doesn’t care. It’s Archer who chose not to help me and bought me instead.

Dad.