Chapter Nine #2
But I did seriously consider marrying him for a moment there.
In that one instance, I saw him. I saw the loneliness plaguing his eyes and mirroring my own.
We could help each other. We could learn to be friends.
We could lean on each other. It’s why I placed my hand on his shoulder and tried to let him know that I saw him while we were at dinner.
Darcy wants to pay me to be his wife, and that isn’t acceptable, right?
“You have so much student loan debt,” I say in an attempt to persuade myself.
“And you are being evicted from your apartment. You need the money and a place to live. What’s better than living at your workplace?
You could save so much time in the morning.
You could pay off your loans and finally use your income to go explore. You could go to Japan!”
Japan…
I’ve wanted to explore the island country for as long as I can remember. Manga and anime were my escape throughout the dark abyss of life, and they stem out of that beloved country. I thought the dream of traveling was a little out of reach, but now…
“No!” I can work my way through the debt even if it takes years.
I’m sure there is an apartment somewhere with a dotted line on a contract waiting for my name.
Doing life on my own is better than selling my soul to the devil for a lengthy part of my life, depending on the election outcome. Which my career hinges upon.
But didn’t he say to view the marriage as a job promotion? Heck, being the wife of Darcy Marshall will be no easy task. So technically, marrying him would be working my way through the debt. Plus, I would have a place to securely lay my head at night.
I throw another handful of popcorn to vent frustration, and then I grab my throw pillow from the other cushion of the couch and hug it close to my body, burying my head into the softness.
What should I do?
Groaning, I yank my head up then pause the show.
I should call Stella. She’ll know what to do.
After a few rings, she answers, and I’m met with sleepy eyes, a messy bun, and a yawn.
“Hello, Mrs. Grady,” I sing. A soft smile paints her lips.
“It’s five a.m.,” she complains.
I shrug. “It’s six here. Besides, shouldn’t you be getting ready for work?”
“I had fifteen more minutes of sleep, you dirty little sleep-stealer. This better be good.” Stella yawns again. “Wait, shouldn’t you be ready for work? You’re in pajamas.”
“I am taking today off after last night.” I tug at my own messy bun with my free hand.
“Well, what happened? Go on. You woke me up.”
“And me,” Lucas grumbles from the background.
“Hold on. Let me get out of the room.” Stella grunts as she gets out of bed. A few moments later, she’s in Lucas’s kitchen—her kitchen.
I’m silent as she begins to make coffee.
“Hayden, what is it?”
“Well, um… Darcy thinks he found a wife.”
“Hmm, that’s good,” she mumbles as she dumps coffee grinds into the filter, then picks up the pot. “Who is it?”
After a beat, I answer. “Me.”
The sound of glass shattering echoes from the other end of the phone.
“Stella! Are you okay?” Lucas shouts. Moments later, his face enters the screen. He stares at Stella as she stares at me with wild, gray eyes.
“You said yes?” she finally asks.
“What? Of course not. I haven’t said anything.”
“Somebody tell me what happened,” Lucas demands. “My favorite household appliance is shattered on the floor.”
“Darcy proposed to Hayden,” Stella responds, still seemingly in shock.
Now, Lucas looks like a deer in the headlights. “Hayden. He’s a billionaire. And running for president of the United States. The United States!”
“I know,” I groan.
“You could be First Lady. I could say I know the First Lady of the United States,” he continues in his southern drawl. “Do it. Marry him.”
Stella and I both glare at him.
“What?” he asks in an innocent tone. Stella shoves him out of the frame.
“Will you clean this up, Luca? I really need to talk to Hayden.” There’s a pause, and then she adds, “Alone.”
“Fine,” he sulks. “Though you broke it.”
“I owe you one.” Stella smiles broadly off camera, then leaves the kitchen.
“Well, I guess I don’t need coffee. That news alone is like an IV line of caffeine straight to the heart.”
“Stella. I need help,” I snap a finger in front of my face to capture her attention. “I’m actually considering his offer. Talk me out of it. Tell me I’m being utterly ridiculous and anti-woman. Tell me that I’m not being a good Christian and am making the biggest mistake of my existence.”
Stella hums to herself for a moment, her eyes looking everywhere but at me. “What’s in it for you?” she finally asks.
“No more student loans. A place to live. A nearly tripled salary,” I huff. “A big enticer, right?”
“But if he wins—”
“When he wins,” I correct her. She raises an eyebrow.
“When he wins, then you will become First Lady of the United States. Hayden Bennett, First Lady. It has a nice ring to it,” Stella muses.
Heat creeps up my face. “Um, well. I think my name would legally be Hayden Marshall.”
“I’ll be.” She shakes her head, while I bite my tongue not to comment on how southern she sounds right now. “That sounds better than your real name. Hayden Marshall, First Lady of the United States.”
My stomach twists, and I have the urge to vomit. I swallow it down. “No more vomiting just because something makes you uncomfortable,” I chastise myself. Hayden Bennett. Hayden Marshall. Hayden Bennett Marshall. Hayden has-no-middle-name Bennett Marshall.
How can a woman without a middle name be the First Lady? Or marry a man of Darcy’s caliber? I don’t like this feeling of inferiority; I work hard to remind myself that the Lord says no human is above another human. But right now…
“What’s that?” Stella asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Nothing. I just…” I close my eyes, “can’t do this.” My phone drops to my lap.
“Hey, Hayden.” Stella’s voice is soft and gentle. “You’re pretty. Even at this angle.”
I snort, and Stella laughs alongside me. I pick the phone up from my thighs.
“Look, hon. I understand if you don’t want to do this.
But, you can do this. I know Darcy is a thorn in your side, but he’s a good man.
He genuinely cares about people, which is why he’s running for president even though the political arena isn’t his favorite place to be.
He wants to make a change, and he’s willing to go through the fire to see it happen. ”
“In the public’s eyes,” I scoff. “He’s a scrooge to me. Why would a man propose to someone he doesn’t tolerate well?”
Stella is silent. It’s a type of silence that makes me squirm.
“What is it?” I finally ask.
“I can’t say, but you should ask him about his Wednesday meetings. It may change your mind about his character.”
I roll my eyes. “He takes breaks by going to faraway meetings on Wednesdays? Yeah, I know that. And I don’t think he has a bad character. I wouldn’t support him for president if I thought that. I respect him, and I—”
Whoa.
“I trust him,” I finish in disbelief at the realization.
He is capable and well-off. He takes care of his team.
He never misses a deadline or an event. He’s committed and trustworthy.
“I may not like him, but I trust him.” Does marriage really have to be about love?
Or is trusting the person more important?
“You always said you never wanted to fall in love.” Stella sounds skeptical, but she’s only repeating my words back to me.
Yeah, I’ve said that. But I never really meant it.
I think she knows that. I only wanted to portray my independence and confidence within myself instead of a man.
I’ve always depended on myself alone. Well, and God.
Though I could benefit from not making Him an afterthought these days.
“Do you think it would be morally wrong for me to marry him and then dissolve the marriage after everything is said and done?”
Stella contemplates this on the other end of the screen as she begins to dress for work. “Biblically, they married for reasons other than love all the time. Marriages were often transactional in nature. I don’t think that it’s wrong. But if you were to consummate the marriage and then—”
“Take your horses and hold them tight, Stella. Nobody said anything about consummating.” My stomach rumbles with nausea at the sheer thought.
“I’m just saying…”
“No!” I bark. “Go get ready for work. We can talk later when your brain lets this whole consummation thing go.”
Stella laughs heartily. “No matter what you decide, I’m in your corner.”
“Bye, Stella.” But before we click off, I hear her laugh and say to Lucas, “Oh, they’re so going to fall in love.”
The phone drops to my lap again, and I stare at the paused image of my anime show.
Tohru falls in love with the grump at the end of the show.
Turns out, Kyo, the love interest, was misunderstood.
Is Darcy simply misunderstood? Can I dig underneath the surface to try and understand him?
Could we work together as a marital team, guiding this country?
Could I learn to like him? Possibly even love… No. Let’s not go there.
A place to live, student loans paid, a heftier income, and not to mention the chance to become First Lady…
If I became First Lady, I could use that to land my dream job of becoming Secretary of State one day. Hillary Clinton did it, and I’d be ten times—a million times—better than her. Bonus, I look better in pantsuits than she does.
Can I do this? Am I going to marry a man for reasons other than love? It’s a completely counter-cultural thought.
This is the life I’ve been given. My parents abandoned me. I grew up bouncing between group and foster homes, and I’ve spent a lot of time running away to the streets. And now, I’m going to marry for money and stability over love.
We won’t technically be married because consummation will not happen. So when it comes time to divorce him, I can have a clean conscience.
Am I really doing this?
God, is this what You want me to do? Please give me direction.