Chapter 6
Blocking Gale‘ s number brought an unexpected sense of relief, as if I had finally shut the door on years of frustration and emptiness.
For a moment, I found myself wondering why I had not done it sooner.
Perhaps I had always known, deep down, that we were never compatible, that the marriage was never really about us.
The memory of our first meeting flashed vividly in my mind.
Gale’s mother had invited me to dinner at
an upscale restaurant, hoping that meeting her son in person might make our arrangement feel more natural.
I dressed modestly, not expecting much. But when Gale saw me approaching the table, the look on his face said it all.
Disgust flickered in his eyes as he glanced
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at my attire, as though my simplicity was an insult to him.
Noticing the tension, Gale‘ s mother quickly suggested, “How about we go shopping after dinner, Rachel?”
But Gale, already looking at his watch, scoffed, “Mom, I’m busy. We agreed on dinner, nothing more.”
His mother frowned, but refused to give in.
“Fine, then. I’ll have a girls‘ day out with Rachel instead. You never did enjoy shopping with women,” she replied, her tone a mix of playfulness and irritation.
Reluctantly, Gale agreed to join us, though it was clear he had rather been anywhere
else.
He followed us at a distance, his expression sour, trailing behind the guards who carried the bags as we moved from shop to shop.
Every time I tried on a new dress, Gale‘ s mother would beam and compliment me.
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Even the guards seemed surprised, their faces lighting up as they saw the transformation with each outfit.
“Oh, Rachel, this dress is just perfect for you!” Gale’s mother would exclaim. She would glance over at Gale, eager for his approval. “Doesn’t she look wonderful, Gale?”
He barely looked up, his expression dripping with disdain. “An ugly duckling will always be ugly,” he muttered coldly.
The comment stung, and his mother‘ s face tightened with frustration.
Determined to turn the outing around, she gave him a pointed look. “Well, since you‘ re so opinionated, why don‘ t you choose something for her, Gale? I’m sure your taste will be a perfect match.”
Gale’s lips twisted into a smirk, his eyes glinting with an edge I had not seen before.
“Fine,” he said. “Why don’t you go ahead to the next store, Mom, and look for
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some jewelry to match? I’ll help Rachel find something fitting.”
Thinking this might bring us closer, Gale’s mother agreed, leaving us alone.
But the moment she was out of sight, Gale grabbed my arm roughly, pulling me along with a cold authority.
“Come with me,” he ordered, his grip tight. His tone sent a chill down my spine, but I didn’t resist.
He led me through racks of clothing, his eyes scanning the selections with a critical
eye.
He did not ask me what I liked or whether I was comfortable; instead, he simply pointed to a series of dresses, signaling to the shop attendant to bring each one to the dressing room.
The clothes were bold, revealing far more than anything I had ever worn, plunging necklines, barely–there hems, and cuts that exposed more skin than they covered.
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I hesitated, looking down at the dresses piled in my arms.
“But Gale,” I whispered, “I don’t think I can wear these. They‘ re… not really my style.”
He sneered, an unkind glint in his eye. “If
you
can’t fit into these, then you‘ re not fit to be my wife. My mother claimed you were better than Lily. Prove it to me.”
The mention of Lilian, his ex, struck a nerve. It was as if he was comparing every part of me to her, finding me wanting.
“Lily looks young and beautiful in everything she wears,” he continued coolly. “You, on the other hand, need to at least show some skin to keep my interest.
The words cut deep, but I swallowed my pride and tried on the dresses.
Each outfit felt more uncomfortable than the last, the fabric clinging too tightly or barely covering anything at all.
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When I finally managed to fit into a black Sabrina dress that hung just low enough to cover my chest and rode up high enough to expose most of my thigh, I stepped out, feeling vulnerable and out of place.
Gale’s eyes roamed over me, his lips. curling into a satisfied smile. “There we go. I suppose any woman can look good in a dress that leaves little to the
imagination.”
He turned to the shop assistant, his tone dismissive. “We’ll take all of these, and find a few similar ones as well.”
“Of course, sir,” the assistant replied, heading to the cashier with the stack of clothes Gale had picked.
Left alone for a moment, I instinctively tried to cover myself, feeling exposed and uncomfortable under Gale‘ s gaze.
He noticed, his smirk deepening as he stepped closer. “If it‘ s that
uncomfortable, change into something
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else, but not the modest dress you wore before.”
I looked down at the options left in the dressing room, none of them any better.
“But… everything you chose is even more revealing than this.”
“That’s exactly the point,” he replied coolly, pinching my chin so that I looked at him. “Pick something with less fabric, Rachel. I want everyone to see you
as I do.”
up
His grip tightened slightly, and I forced myself to nod, swallowing down my discomfort.
Retreating into the dressing room, I sifted through the pile, settling on a crop top that at least covered my upper chest, paired with a high–waisted short skirt that provided a bit more modesty.
When I emerged, Gale gave a slight nod of
approval, satisfied enough to lead me to the cashier where he paid for everything.
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As we exited the store, we met up with his mother, who looked momentarily
surprised by my revealing outfit.
But before she could say anything, Gale cut in smoothly, “Doesn‘ t Rachel look beautiful, Mom? I chose this style for her. It’s what she likes, too. Isn‘ t that right?”
I forced a smile, nodding along. “Yes, thank you, Gale. It’s lovely.”
Gale’s mother smiled, though I could see a flicker of concern in her eyes.
Trying to brush it off, she focused on choosing jewelry that would complement the outfit, placing necklaces and earrings on me until she found just the right ones.
“There, perfect!” she said, her warmth returning. “You look radiant, Rachel.”
But the truth was, I felt anything but
radiant.
That day was my first taste of how Gale saw me, as someone to mold to his tastes,
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someone who was expected to dress and behave the way he desired, with little thought for who I actually was.
And from that moment, a small part of me had known we were never truly
compatible.
The memory of that humiliating shopping trip lingered bitterly in my mind.
I could still feel the sting of Gale’s words, his cold hands pulling me from one rack of revealing clothes to another, dismissing my discomfort as if it were nothing.
Back then, I had not fully realized how heartless he truly was. But I had convinced myself that I could win him over, that I could somehow heal whatever ache he carried from his past with Lilian.
I had been so determined to prove my worth, to make him see me as something
more.
So, I swallowed his cruel words, ignored the subtle bruises his grip left on my arm,
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and married him anyway.
I molded myself into the image he wanted, dressing to his taste, pretending I did not mind the way people looked at me in the clothes he chose. In time,
I even stopped noticing the discomfort, numbing myself to the shame.
But then, looking back, I could hardly believe how naive I had been.
“I was such a fool,” I whispered bitterly, shaking my head to clear away the thoughts.
I focused again on the painting before me, immersing myself in its colors, textures, and the quiet freedom it gave me.
Once it was complete, I began writing an explanation for it, a personal statement that would accompany my resume.
I poured my thoughts and emotions ontol the page, my words flowing as freely as my brushstrokes had.
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Time passed without me noticing, and somewhere along the way, I had drifted off to sleep at my desk, exhaustion overtaking
me.
A sudden knock at the door jolted me awake the next morning, so I rubbed my eyes, blinking away the sleepiness as I got
up.
Still disoriented, I opened the door without
hesitation.
But before I could fully process what was happening, two large men barged in, grabbing me firmly by the arms.
The shock made my heart race, and instinctively, I tried to pull free.
“No! What are you doing? Let me go!” I shouted, struggling against their iron grips, my voice echoing in the quiet studio.
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