It was supposed to be a temporary solution. Her parents would accept him and her life would get back to normal. With them in full view, he opened the box and presented her with the ring. She had planned this from the beginning, and it was working out well.
“What a rock!” exclaimed her father, never hiding his enthusiasm for his daughter’s wealthy friend. Now that he was to be her fiancé, he couldn’t contain his glee. Her mother also couldn’t have put on a better act.
Barely able to contain her greediness, she coyly replied, “Oh, Henry, don’t be so boorish, mind your manners!” The mother’s eyes were mesmerized at the size of the stone. Could it be real, she wondered, and how much was it worth? She sat by her daughter on the divan and looked lovingly at the young man. It wouldn’t hurt to act adoringly.
She knew this type of ring would end her parents’ constant plea for her to marry, and hopefully provide them with an income. They had always depended on her and she was done with that life. If she had to use the boy to accomplish her plan, so be it.
Everything seemed on schedule, her flirtation, seeming adoration of the young man, the secret rendezvous, the seduction; all planned perfectly, coming to fruition. He was young, he’d find another. She was perfectly happy being by herself. She had the experience of clinging, needy parents, too lazy to take care of themselves. This was a way out, to be finally free from encumbrances.
The wedding took place immediately. Not being the romantic sort, it was shortly, deftly done at the courthouse. No special dress, or flowers, only court provided witnesses, and the deed was completed.
Her parents were anxiously seeking their part of the “reward”, and would remain so, for her intention was to keep them waiting. After a brief honeymoon period and what she thought was an appropriate length of time, she began taking trips away, using her job as an excuse. You may think her husband was a dolt, but he was just completely in love with this facade of a woman.
Everything going as planned, she sat down to the desk in the hotel room. She was confident enough time had passed and time she admitted the ruse.
An odd thing happened as she began writing the farewell letter to her husband. She noticed a feeling filling her, unexpected and unwanted. Tears started to flow, and she angrily wiped them away. She held the pen tighter, determined to say goodbye. Every time she tried to write his name, something compelled her to stop. And tears, more than she had ever known, for she was not sentimental. She was tough, had to be. She was just using him and that was that, nothing else.
She couldn’t write the letter. She furiously packed her bags and flew home on the next available flight. She let the taxi driver bring the bags, she was so anxious to see him, tell him she really loved him after all. She would admit the trick and beg his forgiveness, ask for a new start. She ran into their apartment.
As soon as she opened the door, she noticed the lights were off, but thought he was probably watching the television and pictured him alone and sad in the bedroom. She opened the door to find he was more than fine, not at all sad, but orgasmically entwined in a sexual embrace. He didn’t actually see her or hear the door open, but his partner did. He rolled over at her insistence, and said the first thing that came to mind, “Home early?”