The Wrong Wife by Maya Alden

Chapter 2

Esme

As the elevator took me to my new home, I saw the simple wedding band on my ring finger. I was married.

My father had to buy the rings quickly because Declan refused to use the rings made for his wedding with Viv. I was surprised that Declan wore the ring I put on his finger. I thought he’d take it off as soon as the ceremony was over. I wondered if I should take mine off. But I liked the simple gold band and decided to wear it unless Declan had a problem.

I was married to the man I had had a crush on since I was 18, since Viv had become friends with him. I was disappointed, not despondent, when they began to date and almost immediately got engaged. She moved in with him three months ago but not really because she had an apartment in San Francisco, where she had been working on a case. Now, she was living in that apartment with her new husband.

I was married to the man who was in love with my sister. I didn't know him well, but I watched from afar when I could and maybe had built a fantasy of two. But it was only in my mind. I knew that there was no way a man like Declan Knight would look at someone like me.

When my mother called me last night to tell me that I had to marry Declan because, without that, the merger would fall through, and if it fell through, Hartley Industries would not survive—I'd first refused and then agreed.

The arrogant Julien Hartley would not be able to hold his head high. So, couldn't I marry my sister's fiancé as a favor to the family?

"It's just for a year, Es," my mother had pleaded. "Daddy cannot lose everything."

Why can't he? I wanted to ask.

When Viv started dating Declan, it was just what my father needed and wanted. He could hand over the company to his son-in-law and retire a wealthy man. He'd be a Knight Technologies board member as part of the deal. With the merger, two tech cyber securities companies would come together to become one of the biggest in the world.

So, Viv married a man she fell in love with.

Declan was going to be the CEO of a banging tech company.

Daddy would be wealthy and retired, able to do magical things to his golf handicap.

My mother would be able to buy the trinkets she was so in love with.

And me? Well, here I was, stepping into my new home, a home my husband had not bothered to take me to. He'd just dropped me off. And he'd made it clear that I'd have my room—we wouldn’t even pretend in the house, we wouldn’t share a room or a bed. Why did he even want me to live with him? I wondered as I stepped out of the elevator into an expansive living room.

An elegant woman in her mid-fifties awaited me with a big smile and a bouquet of white roses. She wore jeans, comfortable-looking brown leather shoes, and a white dress shirt. She looked both casual and professional.

"Welcome," she said brightly and handed me the flowers. "And congratulations."

She didn't even look behind me to see if my new husband had walked me in. No, she knew. Everyone knew that I had married my sister's leftovers. A man she'd cheated on and then dumped. If I cared about society, this would be a death knell for me. Good thing I didn't. And let's face it; society thought I was a complete loser even before this debacle. I was the ugly Hartley—the lesser sister. I'd heard various versions of that my whole life.

"Thank you." I smelled the roses, and their perfume filled my senses. When the world around you was falling apart, you had to find joy in the small things…like flowers.

"I put all your things in the bedroom with a great view," she declared.

The master suite, which was Declan's probably had the best view, I thought, the room I would not be allowed into. The room he and Viv had shared. Were her things still in the room? None of my business, I concluded.

"That's so nice of you. Can you show me where you have vases? I can put the roses in. Maybe I can have them in my room?"

Calliope looked at me as if surprised. "I can do that for you."

"But they're my flowers now," I told her. "And I want to care for them."

Calliope took me to the kitchen and gave me a quick tour as she showed me where she kept the vases and other glassware to set the table.

I didn't grow up with servants or assistants. Declan thought I had because I was a Hartley. But my grandmother hadn't been. And it was my abuela who had raised me, while my mother had been dazzled by my father's wealth and status; and had forgotten I existed. My father doted on Viv, and he'd never had much time for me—so, from the start, I'd been the unwanted child, an accident that no one cared for except my grandmother.

When she passed, I had started university. I occasionally returned to my parent's home when my presence was requested for occasions such as Viv's engagement party, her graduation party, her promotion to partner celebration, my parents' wedding anniversaries, my father's sixtieth birthday…. My parents had a marriage that was based on convenience. My father got a beautiful woman on his arm, and she got financial security.

I had promised myself that when I married, I'd marry someone who loved me, for whom I was their world, and build my own family. I could still do that. After a year, when the bylaw's demands were satisfied, I could move on and find love. And I would. I promised myself as Calliope led me to my new bedroom, the flowers in a vase in hand.

It was a large room with floor-to-ceiling windows with a beautiful view of downtown Los Angeles. In the distance was the Hollywood Sign, and it made me smile to see it.

"You have a lot of books," Calliope commented and waved to the filled bookshelves. "But not much else."

I had shipped all my stuff to my parents' house from my apartment in Seattle to store until I found a place to live. I had expected to find a modest apartment near my place of employment, wherever that would be. I had not imagined moving from my grad student studio apartment to this penthouse with six bedrooms, seven bathrooms, three balconies, a swimming pool, a sauna, a gym, and a view to die for. My mother had told me about Declan’s townhouse, as if it were a perk for marrying my sister's fiancée.

I had momentarily felt excitement, just for one nanosecond, when my mother said I'd marry Declan. He was a handsome man. Tall. Well built. His blue eyes were bright and intelligent. He looked like a young Paul Newman, and I, for one, was susceptible to his good looks. Not that he'd paid me any attention the few times we'd been in each other's company. He'd had eyes for Viv only, and why shouldn't he? She was his equal in looks. She was tall and slender; people often asked her if she was a model, and she was always flattered but liked to reply that she was a named partner at a top corporate law firm. I had never competed with Viv. When I was younger, I'd looked up to her. By the time I was older, I knew I didn't want what she wanted—and there had been no need to compete. I never envied her…well, not until she brought home Declan. But it was not actual envy—just a longing. Between Viv and me, a man would always pick her. She was beautiful, charming, powerful, and elegant. I was short. Not stick thin. My hair didn't listen to me. I wore glasses because contact lenses irritated my eyes. I didn't dress well, partly because I didn't care and partly because I couldn't afford it. My father had money. My mother had his money. Viv had a high-paying job. I had a small inheritance from my grandmother that I'd used to pay for school, and I still needed two jobs to stay afloat. I'd always known I would never have what Viv did, and I didn't dare to aspire for it either.

Now I was married to Declan, and I still couldn't compete with her. He was heartbroken. I could see it in his eyes, and that's why even though I wanted to tell him not to take his frustration with the situation out on me, who was not at fault, I didn't. Instead, I felt compassion for him and wished to be his friend and ease his burden.

"Thank you so much for putting my things away," I told Calliope as I looked around.

The room had a king-sized bed and two wooden side tables, which were simple and minimalistic. There was an elegant couch in royal blue, matching the trim on the sheets on the bed. There was a coffee table shaped like a leaf. Some original art on the walls that did nothing for me—they were Viv's style. Gray and brown landscapes that looked pretty but didn't have much soul. I enjoyed my art, modern and abstract, colorful, and vibrant.

I walked into the huge walk-in closet. It looked even larger because my few clothes and shoes only occupied a small space.

"You're going to need to go shopping soon," Calliope informed me. "When Miss Vivian lived here, she needed two closets for her clothes, which was much needed for all the events she and Mr. Declan…."

She trailed off as she realized that she was talking about my predecessor. "I'm so sorry, Miss Esme."

I waved and shook my head. "De nada! Don't worry about it. And call me Esme. Miss seems…well, I'm not a miss."

Calliope's eyes warmed. "Okay. Esme. Are you hungry? Or do you want—"

"I'm just going to get some sleep," I cut in. "I'm drained. I got on a flight at five in the morning, and last week was hectic. Ah…is Declan going to be home for dinner?"

Calliope seemed to stiffen at that. She was uncomfortable. "He informed me that he'll be eating with friends tonight, and I should cook you whatever you want."

I nodded and didn't let her see that it hurt that my husband, on our wedding day, didn't want to be with me. If he wanted me to know what he thought about our marriage, he was crystal clear.

"No need to cook for me. Feel free to go home…take the day off. Seriously. I'll take a walk and find something to eat."

The older woman seemed horrified. "But…."

"When do you normally leave?" I asked.

"By seven in the evening unless Mr. Declan or Miss Vi…unless I'm asked to stay longer."

"Well then, take the day off. I'm going to sleep. And he's probably not going to be home until much later."

Calliope shook her head. "Take a nap. I have a few things to take care of. I'm going to go and do some grocery shopping now, but I'll be here when you wake up.

I put the flowers on the coffee table shaped like a leaf. They immediately lifted the energy in the room. I wanted to explore the house but didn't because I would go into Declan's bedroom and invade his privacy. I was not going to do that. He had been clear about not being interested in me and thought I was…well, a nuisance. I was too tired to wallow in self-pity, so I undressed and crawled into bed naked. Within minutes, I was asleep.