ROSALINE
"Let go of me, you brute!" I yelled breathlessly, engulfed by his strong scent as Gerald carried me out of the bar.
The room still spun like I'd just gotten off a rollercoaster; the only difference was, my life was the rollercoaster this time. Fighting against his grip only made my nausea worse, so I submitted to it, letting him haul me into his car like a thief who'd had the opportunity to rob the Central Bank.
Gerald shoved me into his car. "Sit here, and get a hold of yourself, Rosaline! What are you even doing here!?" He questioned angrily, after which he slammed the door shut and headed back into the bar without giving me a chance to respond.
I noticed his driver's imposing stare from the rearview mirror and quietly lay on that seat, plagued by a splitting headache and blurry vision. The act of rebellion was nice. It felt good and gave me several minutes of power, which I needed, but the aftermath of getting drunk wasn't emphasized enough.
My entire body felt like it wasn't mine, and every time I tried to speak, there was an overwhelming urge to vomit. "I feel like crap..." I moaned in the backseat, sighing.
Gerald should be the last person to see me in this position, and I never would have expected to see him here. Was he stalking me? The thought crossed my mind, but for an egomaniac like him, it didn't occur to me that he had that much free time on his hands.
Yet, the situation was too complicated to be a coincidence. My nausea and stomach sickness were enough to battle, so I tried to shove the thoughts down, slacking against the seats and begging my stomach to forgive me for my atrocities. It felt like a live animal was growing inside me, trying to scratch its way out of my lungs.
Moments after, Gerald appeared, and I scooted, leaving a reasonable distance between us when he got in the car. He eyed me for way longer than he should, and I turned my head in the other direction, unwilling to indulge in any conversation with him.
"Let's go," He briskly declared, and the car got into motion, leaving us with the tense silence and calculated air that I breathed. The atmosphere adopted a rigidness that caused me to lose air, rather than retain it.
My fingers twitched, and I crouched low, kicking my shoes off in the car aggressively. Every single thing felt like a burden at the moment, until Gerald's voice punched through, shattering the icy silence.
"What was that about?" Even his question was imbalanced and showed a hint of restraint. I could easily tell that there was so much more he'd rather say.
I didn't give him a response. "Rosaline-"
"Wife to you," I corrected, barely breathing. I grew more out of breath as seconds waltzed by. "Rules to you are always meant to be broken, aren't they?"
Gerald gritted his teeth. "Stop being unreasonable!"
"Oh, really?" I scoffed, scrunching my nose as I shifted my entire body in his direction. "Funny 'cause I was just being you. You don't seem to like that very much."
He fumed, his eyes darkening and a hint of barely noticeable red clouding his ears. His hands were balled into fists when I looked at them. Touché, I thought. Maybe he'd finally know what it feels like.
I probed further. "Are you stalking me, husband?" There's a tinge of mockery hidden behind my words, and I stroked my hair. "Do you not have any faith in me or this... beautiful, original, and inseparable marriage?" A scoff escaped my lips. "Are you insecure? Is that the problem?"
Maybe I was taking it too far, but Gerald deserved as much hurt as I felt. His eyes were in search of the quiet girl in me, and his lips twitched, trying to find a response. I'd never been more glad that I'd left someone speechless.
It flattered every single nerve in me. Gerald's phone vibrated, stealing the spotlight, and I sucked my teeth, turning away again and feeling the wicked wave of nausea sit by me once more, too stubborn to leave.
I heard Gerald mutter something under his breath before he picked up. "No, I couldn't get him," He responded. "I might have to check later. I'm in a bit of a situation, Smith. Thank you."
I didn't know what the conversation was about, but I didn't care either. The car seemed to climb over a bump, and my restraints faltered. Everything I had eaten and drank crawled back up to my throat, and I immediately placed a hand over my mouth.
"Stop the car!" I cried out, my words barely audible. "Stop before I make a mess of this car!"
Gerald threw me a confused look. "Is this another tantrum of yours? Rosa, won't you-"
"Fucking stop the car before I open your shirt and puke in it for design," I bared my teeth, hurling. "That plain shirt might need some color."
His eyes widened, and the car halted immediately. I slipped out in a rush and did my business by the secluded side of the road. It was mortifying having a man who'd ridiculed me so much watch me puke. Then again, nature called when nature called, right?
I turned around to a physically frustrated Gerald with nothing but disgust behind his glare. He handed me a handkerchief, and I walked past it, completely ignoring his gesture.
"What? Did you lace it with chloroform? Murder isn't a good look on you, Gerald," I teased. I didn't know where I got this amount of confidence from, but I liked it.
I needed it. What I couldn't tell was if alcohol was what gifted me this power, or if I had it completely hidden inside of me. My legs still felt wobbly, and my vision split into twos and fours. Regardless, I didn't feel like a mere shadow.
"You're much more fun when you're drunk," He said in an intrigued tone. "Who could have thought?"
"And you are much more fun when you don't use your mouth, so shut it up and help me make this ride less of a tragedy. You can protest when I'm sober."
Gerald smirked and nodded slightly, not saying anything else. "Who knew she had a personality..." he muttered.
Did he just- "What did you say to me?"
He shrugged, a satisfied smirk resting on his pretty face. "I'd talk to you when you're sober."
*
"Well, someone's awake," Gerald's voice hit me as soon as my eyes opened, and I tiredly sat up, my vision slowly clearing out. I couldn't seem to get rid of this one man, could I?
It took me a while to register that I was on the couch in the living room, and he was sitting directly opposite me as though he'd been watching me sleep. Such a creep. I completely sprang up and realized that I was feeling better.
The nausea was gone, and so was the headache. Maybe the confidence I had, too, must have faded. It was sad, really. "Normal people would think of carefully dropping a lady in her bedroom, you know," I patted my hair down. "Not dump her on the couch and watch her sleep like a creep. Do you get off watching people sleep, Gerald?"
Oof, okay. Maybe the confidence had been me all along. I folded my hand across my chest and watched the puzzled expression cross his face.
"I won't stay here and get insulted by a lady who can't even get herself home!" He declared angrily, rising to his feet.
"Good, then leave. Being around you makes me feel stuffy anyway!" I shot back. "I can be much more of myself when you're not around, and I appreciate that more than anything!"
"Look, Rosaline-"
"I said you should get my name out of your mouth!" I warned. "Call me what you can. Wife? Oh, maybe Julie works better for you. Say anything but get my name out of your mouth!" I choked out, "Don't say my name like you gave it to me!"
The more I talked, the more I realized I hadn't moved on from the pain; neither was I handling it well. It hurt like hell to be regarded as a pushover, and the more I tried to fight against that feeling, the more exhausting it became. Despite that fact, I didn't mind. I was much more determined to spend the days of my life doing what I wanted.
Like right now, yelling at this angry man before me was what I wanted. I needed to get that tight feeling out of my chest. All my tantrums were just a cry to be seen, to be noticed.
Gerald moved closer to me, invading my space. His imposing presence sucked the air out of my lungs, and I immediately rose to my feet, too, to avoid feeling too small.
His hand found its way to my chin, and he pulled my head up, boring his darkened eyes into mine. I grew weak in the knee, and my stomach kicked, brimming with a kind of feeling that words couldn't correctly define. Yet, I managed to keep a straight face.
"I don't care how many tantrums you want to throw in order to make a say, but... here are some things that should be clear to you. No woman of mine goes around getting drunk in bars, dancing in the hands of oblivious men, and making a mess of herself! Who the hell was that dude!?"
I slapped Gerald's hands and jerked away from his grip. "I am no woman of yours, Mr!" I spat blatantly. "None of my actions should affect you! It's really none of your business, or did you forget yesterday? I am merely a replacement, and this is a fucking contract! Why are you so concerned about-"
"BECAUSE IT IS WHAT I WANT!" Gerald hollered, and I flinched, stepping away. "Because it is what I want, and unlike you, I have a reputation to keep. If you go messing around like that, it all bounces back to me!"
"Let's hope you're good with balls then, as a lot of things would come bouncing back."
"You're not listening to me!"
I nodded, pursing my lips. "Yeah, I'm not. Everything you've said means nothing to me, Mr," I uttered in a low tone.
"Gerald. Gerald. Gerald. It's Gerald, Rosaline," He called repeatedly, evidently frustrated. "Call me Gerald!"
"And if I don't?"
"Can you not make this any harder?"
"What?" I quizzed. "I thought active, sophisticated, and sharp-tongued women were your style. What happened to that, Mr? Why are you getting frustrated when this is all you've seen!?"
"Are you doing this to impress me then?"
I eyed him. "Oh, get over yourself. This is the real world. Wake up, Mr. Billionaire!"
"Why are you so stubborn!?" He ruffled his hair, stepping away from me. "I'm done with this discussion. Remember, Rosaline, your family needs this union more than anything in the world."
"And that's why I'm still here, tolerating your shabby presence!"
He didn't give me a response. Instead, Gerald charged to the door. Suddenly, he stopped and turned to me. "Tomorrow, we have an important occasion."
I sneered. "Good luck with that."
"I'm visiting my parents," He declared. "And you are coming with me."