Chapter 3: Assessment

John nodded, his tone gentler than she had heard. "It is," he said. For a moment, the soft hum of the city below was the only sound they heard as they stood in comfortable solitude. John's icy façade cracked somewhat, making him look less threatening for the first time. John suddenly spoke something in a hushed voice. "Tell me about your life before all this," he urged, pointing obliquely at the lavish setting. After a moment of hesitation, Marie spoke of her early years spent above the family bakery, with the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread always there. She spoke about how much her parents loved her and each other, and how losing them had broken her heart. For the first time, John's expression showed a hint of comprehension as he listened carefully. Once she was done, there was a relaxed stillness once again. "I appreciate you sharing that," John eventually stated in a rough voice. Marie grinned. It seemed like a small seed of connection sprouting between them, since it was the first sincere talk they'd had. For what seemed like hours, they stood on the rooftop, engrossed in the calm comfort of one another's company. As the first rays of dawn lit the sky, John cleared his throat. "It's probably time for us to get some sleep," he stated in a rough voice. Marie nodded as they walked off the terrace, a peculiar hesitation pulling at her heart. The well-crafted image of the aloof millionaire, John Kings, has been completely destroyed by this unplanned moment of intimacy. She had a fleeting glimpse of the guy behind the façade a man who, like her, was lonely and maybe even a bit lost. Once back in the enormous void of the apartment, John stopped at the entrance to his bedroom. "Good night, Marie," he remarked in an unexpectedly soft voice. There was a flash of something Marie couldn't quite place as she stared into his eyes. She said, "Good night, John," a feeling of warmth rising in her chest. Marie saw that this world of unfathomable luxury and social duties was more than just a gilded prison as she shut the door to her own chamber. It was a world where, in the most unlikely of places, even the most alone individuals might discover unexpected connections and maybe even love. The next several weeks were packed with events. In order to maintain her financial independence, Marie continued to work two shifts at the bakery and the café while juggling her new life as Mrs. John Kings. Her resolve was strengthened by the prospect of a future free of debt, despite the tremendous burden. Even though he was still a reserved figure, John began to reveal aspects of his personality that lay underneath his cold exterior. With a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes, he watched as she interacted with the personnel, showing compassion and unshakable professionalism. John abruptly interrupted a particularly tense social gathering, rebuffing a very belligerent reporter with a sharpness that made Marie feel both impressed and a little scared. Their little hideaway turned out to be the rooftop patio. They would converse more comfortably every day as they shared memories of their previous lives under the cover of darkness. Marie discovered about John's restrictive upbringing, his parents' oppressive expectations, and the loneliness that followed him even if he was wealthy. John, on the other hand, paid close attention as Marie described her aspirations to launch a neighborhood bakery that would provide a cozy atmosphere in addition to freshly baked bread. John broke the news one gloomy day. "Next month, my parents are hosting a birthday celebration for me. They anticipate you being the ideal hostess." Marie felt a knot grow in her gut. Managing the social scene was one thing, but organizing a lavish banquet seemed daunting. "A gala?" she stumbled out. "But I-" "Don't worry," John interrupted, his tone somewhat amused. "An event coordinator will take care of the arrangements. Your job is to look good for the camera and be pleasant." With a shiver of excitement and trepidation coursing through her, Marie found herself nodding. This extravagant show of riches was quite different from planning a celebration at the bakery, but Marie was eager to do her share. Meetings with the event planner, caterers, and florists occupied the next several weeks in a haze. Marie realized the pricey nature of designer tablecloths and the distinction between canapés and hors d'oeuvres. John stayed out of her life, leaving her on her own throughout it all. The night of the gala finally came. Every nook and cranny of the Kings' apartment was filled with flower arrangements and sparkling lights, creating a breathtaking display. Marie was standing next to John, a sea of faces fading in front of her, wearing an amazing gown that felt at once dazzling and uneasy. The attendees, a mixture of corporate magnates and socialites, were a study in conspicuous riches. Olivia approached them with a predatory look in her eyes as she shone in a flaming red dress. She said, "John, darling," with a fleeting glance at Marie. "You appear...different. Would you think that this is all a touch too cozy? John's jaw hardened as he made the delicate but possessive action of grabbing for Marie's back out of reflex. "I see Olivia is as charming as ever," he replied icily. The evening passed in a blur of staged grins, courteous banter, and copious amounts of bubbly. Even the most jaded attendees were won over by Marie's warm grin and genuine curiosity, despite her initial nervousness. Later, John caught Marie outside a balcony with a view of the city as the music started to fade and some of the visitors started to depart. He said, "You did well tonight," with an unusually kind tone. "I thought for sure you'd crumble under the pressure." Marie laughed and felt a wave of comfort pass through her. "Almost did," she said. "But I managed." When their eyes locked, a brief flicker of something unexpected ignited between them. There was something mutual in that glance, a nod of understanding toward the masks they both wore. At the opposite end of the room, there was a loud noise. A security guard was being harassed by a guy Marie knew as the debt collector from her past. Her warmth from the champagne evaporated as panic rushed through her. John's expression hardened as he followed her gaze. "What's going on?" The guy saw her before she could respond, his expression twisted in shock. He pushed through the guard on security and came charging at them. "There you are!" he yelled, his accusing gaze burning. "You thought you could run, but you can't hide from your debts!" John moved nearer, speaking in a menacing but quiet tone. "Who is this man, and what's the meaning of this?" Marie had a pounding sensation in her heart. John would not comprehend. This was the weight of her history, threatening to topple everything, not some social game. She took a deep breath and turned to face John, her voice quivering a little. She stammered, "John, this is why I agreed to..." The confession hung heavily in the air as Marie trailed off. Her gut churned with shame as she imagined John's dismay. But she was no longer able to lie.