Work In Progress: Second No More A Novel – “Of course, I never stopped loving you, Abigail. But she’s my wife, sweetheart.” “But she doesn’t have to be, Daniel.” “By the sounds of it, she may not even be able to have children. We can start over. Don’t you want that?” “Yes, I want that.” I’ve bent over backward for this man, being everything he needed and wanted me to be, and he’s going to leave me? ‘Men don’t leave valuable women, Charlotte. ‘My mother’s words echo in my mind. By the time I came to my senses, the glass paperweight I was holding had flown into the wall behind them.
The chatter of pretentious high society greets my husband and me as we step into the ballroom, which is decorated in gold and crystal. Nerves have been incessantly swarming in my stomach all afternoon, and not in a good way. I hate everything about these events: the fake smiles, the fake conversations, and the fake people. With a deep breath, a last-ditch effort to release the angry little buggers, I wipe my palms over the soft fabric of my cream-colored coat as I glance down to make sure the edges of my coat are perfectly in place. “Look your best tonight, little bird,” my husband’s cold, lifeless words repeat in my mind. He said them as he ran out of the house for work without so much as a peck goodbye, a gesture, more specifically a lack of a gesture, I’m used to by now. Look your best, little bird. Do not embarrass me, little bird. You are a reflection of me, little bird.
I’m used to these words of direction and command. They’re no different from the prompts my parents ingrained in me since childhood: Smile and fix your dress, Charlotte. Lose a few pounds before the gala, Charlotte. Men don’t like women who speak too much, Charlotte. Daniel Michael Montgomery, CEO and founder of Diamond Steel, Co., not only comes from significant wealth but is also a money magnet in his own right. He started his company shortly after graduating from high school, building it from the ground up. His parents refused to invest and fund his life unless he graduated from an Ivy League college first. Always a stubborn man, Daniel set out to prove them wrong, earning his excommunication from his entire family and their circle of friends for years. But, ultimately, he proved them wrong and he was quickly welcomed back into high society with loving arms and forgotten anger. A warm hand presses into the small of my back, bringing me back to the present.
“Hand over your coat, little bird.” Daniel’s warm, cinnamon breath brushes against my blushed cheeks, sending an army of sparks over my skin. Even after four years of marriage and everything he’s put me through, my husband still makes me feel alive and I absolutely hate it. I peek up at him. My eyes trace his strong jaw to his brilliant caramel eyes, but his eyes aren’t on me. No. They rarely ever are. He’s scanning the room, and my stomach drops, knowing exactly what, or should I say who, he’s looking for. My jaw clenches as I hold back my anger and heartbreak. Keep it together, Charlotte. Ladies never react. Smile and be gracious, Charlotte. Ladies are never easy to anger. Be polite and quiet, Charlotte. It’s a man’s world and women are to remain silent.
“I can take that from you, madam,” a man in a black suit says with a warm, welcoming smile. “Of course,” I say robotically. “Thank you.” I untie my coat as the man helps remove it from my shoulders. He drapes my coat over his arm while handing my husband a ticket so we can retrieve my coat later. For the first time since arriving here, Daniel glances at me. Butterflies explode as I expect him to look over my dress. Excitement builds as I wait for him to give his approval of the burgundy satin, floor-length gown that falls down my body like a dream, a last-minute purchase made to ensure I looked my best for tonight, per Daniel’s instruction. His eyes immediately turn away from me and he says nothing. My stomach drops and I hate how pathetic I feel. My entire marriage is defined by an unconcerned husband and an absolute fool, a whiny Pavlov dog of a fool.
Would it be so hard to say, “You look nice, Charlotte?” I could kick myself for so desperately wanting any small bit of acknowledgment from a man who has made it clear he has no interest in me. For four years, I’ve tried everything to get this man to notice me, to love me. Being the perfectly poised wife I was raised to be, I woke early every morning to lay out Daniel’s suits, make his breakfast, and ensure his departure for work was as stress-free as possible. I made sure our home was always clean. I always kept up with my appearance by working out regularly, wearing perfectly ironed clothes, and mastering my makeup application. Dinner was always ready by the time he came home, even though he rarely ever made it home. I volunteered with every charity I could, always being the attentive socialite he needed me to be. Although our marriage started much like my parents, a business arrangement, I thought, over time, he’d eventually warm to me and love me like a man should love his wife.
But, I was so, so wrong. How can he possibly see me when he’s always seeking out her? How can he possibly love me when he only loves her? Simply, he can’t. “Darling,” a feminine voice that I’ve grown to hate says from behind us. Daniel’s hand drops from my back as his entire demeanor loosens. He sets his eyes on the beautiful blonde bombshell approaching us: Abigail Susan Coleson. Daniel’s first, and only, love. “Abigail, sweetheart, how are you?” he says with so much adoration, leaning in and pecking her cheek. His adoration should be for me, his wife. A spike of jealousy surges to the point I want to strike like a snake, but I never will. As I’ve been trained to do ever so well, I don’t react the way I desire to, rather I smile through it all: the anger, the jealousy, and my need to pull this woman’s hair extensions out and shove them down her perfectly delicate throat. Proper. Always be a proper lady, Charlotte. Neither of them acknowledges that I’m standing right here so I’m forced to watch them interact as if I were a glutton for punishment, an obsessed third wheel who wasn’t invited to participate.
There is so much familiarity between the two of them that it’s impossible to miss the intense feelings they have for each other. They grew up together. Their parents even had them set for marriage when they were still in diapers. Unfortunately for them, Daniel’s rebellion after his high school graduation put a bit of a wrench in their plans. After he put his foot down on the whole college thing, his parents cut off all communication with him, which included their friends–which included his precious Abigail. By the time Daniel made it on his own and his parents felt he was back to their standard of success, his sweet Abigail was already married to a man named George Coleson. I hate watching them together because even I have to admire that they’d make a beautiful couple. In a different world, they would have been the perfect couple with a pack of darling, proper children to boot. “I’m sure you’ve heard,” Abigail says with her delicate hands firmly grasping Daniel’s arms, “George and I are in the process of a divorce.” It feels as if the floor has dropped from beneath me and I’m falling.
My skin crawls as heartbreak takes over. The only sound I can hear is my pounding heart as the reality of the statement comes crashing down upon me. I snap out of my trance, watching as Daniel embraces Abigail tightly in his arms. “Oh, Abigail, what happened?” Is that excitement in his words? Hope? My eyes flick between the two of them. “He’s been having an affair with his secretary. Can you believe it? How utterly cliche.” She says, shaking her head in exasperation. “She’s pregnant, of course, and he must do the gentlemanly thing and marry her.” She dabs a tissue at her nonexistent tears. Abigail and George were like oil to water, they didn’t mix at all. If it wasn’t for her parents’ needing to merge with George’s family business, they never would have married in the first place. There is no love lost there, only humiliation and scandal. And Abigail does not like to be humiliated.
“What do your parents say?” Daniel asks, swiping a fallen piece of blond hair from her face. It’s an intimate gesture, one I don’t like one bit. “They’re furious, of course. The affair isn’t the issue so long as he keeps it discreet, but how do you keep a pregnancy discreet? Especially now that he claims he loves her. A secretary!” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, huffing in frustration. “Luckily, his parents are just as furious with him, so it shouldn’t affect the business dealings between our families. But can you imagine the chaos and shame he’s brought onto our families? What an idiot.” For the first time since Abigail approached us, Daniel looks at me, “Do you mind getting us drinks, little bird?” Yes, I mind. “Not at all,” I say with as much poise as I can gather. I look at Abigail, “If I remember correctly, you like classic martinis?” Unoriginal, just like her.
Abigail looks at me with a look of triumph that I want to smack right off her perfectly made-up face. “Oh, yes, please. That would be great, Charlotte. Thank you.” I nod once before turning my back on my husband and his Abigail, making my way towards the bar. There’s a small line when I arrive. I look over my shoulder to check on them, but they’re no longer where I left them standing. I scan the room. For a brief moment, I feel relief when I spot them, but it quickly turns to anger when I watch Daniel lead Abigail onto the dance floor. The back of my throat burns as I hold back tears. I want to storm over there, blow up my life, and never look back. Put my arrogant husband in his place and throw all my cards in and hope for the best but I won’t. Never express emotion, Charlotte. I order our drinks and place them on the nearest table as I wait for my husband to emerge from the dance floor and finally remember he has a wife. People swarm around me as I stand with a champagne glass in my hand, watching as Daniel delicately leads Abigail into another dance.
He’s breaking every social etiquette rule, but he doesn’t care or notice, not when she’s around. If I were any other woman, I’d walk right on over and throw my drink in their faces, but I’m not. I’m Charlotte Anne Montgomery, an elegant daughter of high society, raised to be polite, proper, and always, without exception, a lady. Men break rules, Charlotte. Ladies always obey. Daniel lifts his arm, and Abigail twirls beneath it. I’d scream at the top of my lungs and call them out on their despicable behavior if I could, but that would be classless and petty. She may have his heart, Charlotte, but you have the ring and you will have his children. My mother’s words echo in my mind as the grip on my glass tightens. “Any tighter and you’ll crush the glass in your delicate hand, my dear,” a masculine voice says from behind me, startling me. I look over my shoulder, finding Alexander Beauchamp, the city’s top divorce attorney standing behind me. He’s rounder in the middle than I last remember him and he has a bit more grey in his hair, but his signature cocky smirk that he has printed on every billboard around town is just the same. He looks toward Daniel and Abigail. “What a fine couple they make.”
My back straightens as I prepare to defend my husband. Always stand by your husband, Charlotte. Always. “Before you get your knickers in a twist, I was only making a simple observation, an observation you’ve also made by the looks of it.” His eyes scan the room, like a predator looking for prey. “We’re the only two who seem to have noticed that your husband has had his eyes on Mrs. Coleson the entirety of the night, but, I’m afraid, your luck can only last so long.” “Mr. Beauchamp, please forgive me if I come off as harsh, but I have no idea what you’re implying. My husband and Mrs. Coleson are only on friendly terms.” A gentle, knowing smirk appears on the man’s face, and it annoys me because I know I’m not fooling him. “Right. Of course. My apologies, Mrs. Montgomery.” He twists his body so he’s facing me directly, no longer looking at the dance floor. His dark brown eyes stare me down, and a shiver runs down my body. It’s this look that wins him so many cases.
He’s definitely in his element here. “Your parents certainly did raise you perfectly for elegant society, didn’t they?” “What does that mean?” I refusing to back away from this man. Daniel and I may have issues, but they’re our issues. “Nothing, my dear. Nothing. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. My old age and a bit too much to drink, I’m afraid. Please forgive me.” He holds his hand out to me. Everything in me wants to deny him such a thing, but that would be impolite. I offer my hand, which he takes. Leaning down, he places a gentle peck on the top of my hand. He doesn’t let go of my hand immediately, instead, he holds it tightly until I realize there’s something between our hands. When I tighten my grip, he lets go. Flipping my hand over, I see his business card. “I don’t need–” “In case, my dear. Just in case.” He winks before walking away, not letting me get another word in. I want to throw the card away, stomp on it, and light it on fire, but my exit would be obvious.
Rather, I discreetly tuck the card into my strapless bra. I’ll deal with the card later. I love Daniel, even if he doesn’t love me. I want this marriage to work. I’ve dreamed of this marriage since I was a little girl, and a divorce was never in the cards. Abigail or not, Daniel is my husband. Divorce is shameful, Charlotte. Sometimes we have to stand by our husbands, Charlotte, even when they don’t stand by us. Never hold grudges, Charlotte. It will give you wrinkles. My eyes return to the dance floor where Daniel now has Abigail tightly tucked into his chest as if they were great sweethearts. His hand is pressed against the small of her back and her head rests gently on his chest. Men cheat, Charlotte. It’s biological. You accept it. I’ve been staring at my untouched glass of sparkling water for the past ten minutes, watching as each little bubble floats to the surface, and pops.
I wonder what it would feel like to be a bubble. One second, being a whole bunch of air molecules trapped by what must seem like the weight of the world, and then the next, gathering enough strength to fight for their escape to freedom. Freedom to float. Freedom to breathe. Freedom fly. I gently tap the glass with my fingernail, releasing more of those little bubbles. If I can’t fly, maybe I can help them to fly. “What’s gotten into you?” Daniel whispers in my ear, bringing me out of my thoughts. Right. It’s been a week since learning about Abigail’s upcoming divorce and Daniel has never been more busy with work; he hasn’t been home once for dinner. He says he’s working late. He says he’s behind. He says a lot of things. I don’t have time to talk, little bird. I won’t be home for dinner. No need to wait up for me either. We’re at his parent’s home to attend a very important dinner, a dinner Abigail and her parents just so happen to also be in attendance. It’s all quite convenient, to say the least. “Sorry,” I whisper back. “Got a little lost in my thoughts.” Daniel’s jaw tenses.
“Well, snap out of it. You’re embarrassing me. My mother asked you a question and you’ve blatantly ignored her.” His hand squeezes my knee. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s not a gesture done in love either. Your husband is always right, Charlotte. Always apologize for your disobedience. Your marriage will work out better that way. “Of course, Daniel. I’m sorry.” I offer him a gentle smile before lifting my gaze to his mother. The woman has the same caramel eyes as her son. By the scowl on her face, she’s not pleased with my behavior. If I’m honest, I don’t think his mother has ever been pleased with my behavior. In her eyes, no woman could ever be good enough for her son. No woman except for the precious and perfect Abigail, that is. “My apologies, Katherine. I missed what you said.” “Head in the clouds, dear? Perhaps you’ve had enough drinking for tonight.” I haven’t had a single sip of drinking today, but I don’t tell her that. It would be confrontational and impolite and useless.
There’s power in allowing others to win, Charlotte. “Perhaps you’re right as always, Katherine.” Daniel huffs in irritation beside me as his mother nods, pleased with herself for putting me in my place in front of all of her guests. “I asked why you haven’t been to see Dr. Davis. I ran into his wife at the golf course yesterday, and she said you haven’t made an appointment. Imagine my embarrassment when, the last time we spoke, you promised you’d reach out.” She takes a sip of her drinking. It has to be her fourth or fifth glass since we sat for dinner. She has a glazed shine over her eyes, and I know she is feeling the effects of drinking. When Katherine Montgomery feels loose, so does her mouth. Like an arrow shooting bow, her vocal shots are always aimed to destroy. “Fertility is no joking matter, Charlotte. It’s been four years and not one pregnancy, dear. I’m concerned.”
Of course, you are. My jaw clenches as I fist my hands beneath the table. There’s nothing wrong with my fertility, but I cannot tell her that because then I’d have to tell her the reason why I haven’t become pregnant isn’t that there are issues with my fertility but rather because her son has no desire to have children at this time. At least, that’s what he keeps telling me. At this point, I think he simply doesn’t want children with me. It’s just not the right time, Charlotte. Maybe in another year. I clear my throat. “You’re right. I’ll give him a call next week.” “Oh, nonsense, dear. I’ll give his wife a call tonight and get you in his schedule immediately. She seemed very worried when I discussed my concerns about you with her. You’re not getting any younger and my son would make an exceptional father. We need to know immediately what solutions we have available for your little … problem.
The clock is ticking. You’re a Montgomery now, Charlotte. I hope you understand how heavy of a role you carry.” You’re lucky to have a man like Daniel Montgomery, Charlotte. It is your duty to give him a legacy to secure your place by his side. My mother’s words repeat. You have no idea how lucky of a woman you are, Charlotte. My hands begin to shake beneath the table. I want to crawl across this table and claw that condescending smirk right off her botoxed face. “Relax, Charlotte,” Daniel whispers in my ear. “She’s just concerned.” Then why don’t you tell her exactly why I’m not pregnant, Daniel? I take a deep breath. Always keep your husband’s secrets, Charlotte. Your loyalty is what makes you highly valuable. “Of course, Katherine.” My voice comes out as a whisper, and I hate that I’m letting her get to me. Never allow your emotions to take over, Charlotte. “Wonderful. I’ll call Mrs. Davis right after dinner.” I don’t bother to respond, just nod with a forced smile. You’d be amazed what a well-placed smile can hide, Charlotte. My mother was the queen of a well-placed smile.
“Now, Abigail,” Katherine says, no longer staring me down and I feel I can finally breathe. “I’ve heard that your appointment with Mr. Davis went well and that everything is working perfectly for you.” I flinch. Of course, Abigail’s fertility wouldn’t be in question. I slide my eyes toward Daniel. Tears are begging for release, but I won’t let them fall. He looks at me and his brows drop. What does he see? Does he see the pain he’s putting me through? Does he finally see me? He shakes whatever emotion from his mind and looks away and sighs. Foolish of me to think for a second he may be concerned. No. He was annoyed. He doesn’t reach for me; he provides no comfort. “That’s enough, Mother,” Daniel says. His tone makes it clear his mother is to end this conversation immediately. It’s not him speaking the truth, or standing up for me, but it’s something, at least. “You’re right, dear. You’re right. I may have had a little too much to drink. Luckily, we are all family here.” Abigail is family, little bird. She’ll always have a place in my life. “Excuse me. I need to use the powder room,” I say, not bothering to look at Daniel. I need a minute to compose myself. My ever-tight control is tearing at the seams and I need to get myself together.
I don’t even register my walk to the bathroom. I just know I’m now standing in front of the mirror, staring at myself and I don’t recognize the woman looking back at me. Sure, it’s my face and my features, but whatever lies behind the woman’s eyes is vacant, void, and so utterly tired. As a child, I was always one of the girls who dreamed of a happily ever after. I never wanted to be a doctor, a lawyer, or a business owner. I could care less about being in a ballet or going to space. The very thought of fame makes me nauseous. Nothing appealed to me more than building a life with a man I could call my own and children I could love with my whole heart, a life completely different from the one my parents had. I know this day and age, most would call my dreams sad, pathetic even. And maybe that’s true, but that doesn’t change the fact that being a mother and wife was–and still is–my greatest dream. It’s all I ever wanted. The success of your marriage is dependent on you, Charlotte.
Taking a breath, I know my time is running out. I can’t stay in here much longer without someone noticing and getting annoyed with my absence. Never make your husband wait, Charlotte. His time is important, and you are to abide by his schedule, not your own. Stepping out of the bathroom, I almost trip on an object on the floor. Looking down, I find a glass orb, not just any glass orb, it’s the glass paperweight that’s typically sitting on Richard’s desk in his home office. How did this get here? Kneeling, I pick up the weight. Inside the glass, are hundreds of air bubbles, all trapped since the thing was made. My eyes move over each bubble that seems to be frozen in time. I shake myself out of my trance and walk toward Richard’s office to return it to its home. As I approach, I hear voices coming from inside the room. I stop at the opened door as anger and jealousy burst into my chest when I recognize the voices belong to Daniel and Abigail. They have no business being alone in a room together. “I can’t thank you enough for this past week, Daniel. You have been such a help with this whole divorce,” Abigail’s overly sweet voice says. I have to work late all week, little bird. Don’t wait up for me. “I’m glad I could help, sweetheart.”
I flinch at his endearment for her. “My attorney thinks this divorce should go without a hitch. With the pressure his and my families are putting on him, plus the endless needs of his baby mamma and impending due date, I think George won’t push too hard on details. Hopefully, this mess can be over with sooner rather than later.” “I hope everything works out how you wish, sweetheart.” Flinch. “Do you know what you’re going to do once everything is over?” “Oh, I don’t know,” she says, sounding wistful. “I was hoping maybe you and I could give us a go again.” My jaw clenches as I peek around the corner. Abigail has her hands on Daniel’s chest. Her blue doe-eyes stare up at my husband’s face. Daniel is holding her wrists, not to pull her off and push her away, but rather as if he were holding her to him. I can only see his profile, but I can tell he isn’t looking at her with disdain as I’d have hoped. “Abigail, I–” “Please, Daniel. Don’t push me away. I know you still love me. I can see it every time you look at me. You love me, and I still love you.” “Of course, I still love you, Abigail. I never stopped loving you.
It wasn’t me who gave us up. Do you have any idea what it did to me to find out you were married?” “I-I know, Daniel. What choice did I have? Our parents made their conditions clear. If I followed you, I’d lose everything … everything, Daniel. I couldn’t survive on my own. I’m not like you.” “You could have trusted me, Abigail. I would have done anything for you. I just needed your trust.” “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She takes a deep breath, then presses her forehead to Daniel’s chest. With such a small, defeated voice, she says, “I was just a girl, Daniel. I was scared. I didn’t know how to live a life different from what I knew. I never had confidence like you. If I could do it differently, I would. It kills me seeing you with that mousy little thing.” Daniel releases Abigail’s wrists, moving his hands around her neck. He presses a peck to the crown of her head. Her eyes shift to look right at me, and she smirks. “She’s my wife, sweetheart,” he says, not attempting to defend me against her description of me.
“But she doesn’t have to be, Daniel. You don’t have children. By the sounds of it, she may not even be able to have children. We can start over. Don’t you want that?” The knuckles in my right hand burn. They’ve been squeezing this paperweight so tightly, I’m surprised they haven’t crushed through the glass yet. What is it you want, Daniel? Inquiring minds want to know. He sighs. “Yes, I want that.” “Oh, Daniel!” Abigail pulls her eyes from me and her head from his chest and looks up at him. From here, I can see tears of joy lining her eyes. My entire body shakes from anger and betrayal and disappointment. “Why don’t you talk to my divorce attorney on Monday when you go with me? I’m sure he can get the ball rolling.” “Listen, Abigail, this is a delicate situation with the agreement between her parents and me. I can’t just throw that all away.
I have to take some time to move things around before I can even speak about divorcing Charlotte. Just give me time, okay? I’ll look into the divorce, but the timing has to be right. And now is not the time, not with your divorce. It’s too obvious.” My body shakes as my breath becomes rapid. My heart pounds beneath my chest as tears burn and yearn to be set free. I’ve done everything right, just as I was told to do. I never fought; he never noticed. I always cooked; he rarely ate. I always gave; he always took. I’ve bent over backward for this man, being everything he needed and wanted me to be, and he’s going to leave me? Men don’t leave valuable women, Charlotte. A loud crash and the shrieking scream of my voice tear me away from the storm brewing within my mind. I look at the wall just behind Daniel and Abigail where there is now a large hole about a foot above their heads. Beneath it, glass has shattered into thousands of pieces on the floor. I look down at my hand, finding it empty, no longer weighed down by the glass weight. And just like that, hundreds of bubbles are set free.