Under the supervision of a flash marriage boss: My Rebel Parenting
I slipped the matchmaker $500, asking her to make me sound as appealing as possible.
She really delivered, describing me as accomplished in music, chess, calligraphy and painting – the perfect combination of a virtuous wife and loving mother, beautiful both inside and out.
Thanks to her efforts, I managed to marry a great husband.
The kind that’s always abroad and rarely comes home.
With the added condition of taking care of a child under 5 years old.
I agreed without hesitation!
From then on, pizza and burgers became our daily staples. The kid and I lived carefree days, happy as can be!
Now, I dabbed at non–existent tears with a tissue, crossing my legs as I spoke softly into the phone to my husband: “No matter how big the house is, it’s not a home without you here.”
A low chuckle came through the line, his deep voice tinged with amusement:
“Honey, there are cameras in the house.”
“More than one.”
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I stopped swinging my leg and carefully slid it under the covers.
Keeping my tone unchanged, I said, “Darling, what do you mean there are cameras? I had no idea.”
I glanced around the large villa, lavishly decorated. I had installed much of the furniture myself while James was away, and he hadn’t been back since. How could there possibly be cameras?
“Are you trying to scare me? I’m already nervous being alone in this big empty house, and now you say things like that!”
I pretended to get angry, huffing into the phone, “I’m not talking to you anymore!”
Then I quickly hung up.
Sitting on the bed, I started to calm down and think. For now, I’d play it cool.
Damn it, it had been eight months! A full eight months before he mentioned cameras?
James was definitely lying.
If it was true, then all my carefully crafted image would be ruined!
