One Weekend with the Billionaire

Julia

I turn off the hot water and place the last of the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher, giving the kitchen one last glance to make sure I didn’t miss anything. Jeff has already left for work, but if I’ve missed a dish, I’ll have to wash it by hand. He doesn’t like it when I miss something.

Satisfied that all of the dishes are in the dishwasher, I put the soap in the compartment and push the start button. It’s not a big machine, but then, only two of us live in our tiny apartment for now. Jeff has made no secret that he hopes to have children soon. I’m not sure I’m ready. I’m not sure we are ready.

Once the dishwasher is purring, I start to wipe down the counters and the stove. They are already clean. I constantly wipe down the surfaces in the kitchen because I have nothing better to do. Jeff has also made it clear that he doesn’t want his wife to have a job, even though he knows we could use the money. He has been at the financial advising firm for almost two years now. Meriweather and Associates is a great place to work, but I’m not sure that Jeff is as good at his job as he lets on. He has never gotten a raise, and a few times, he has come home late, drunk, angry that those “assholes” at work just don’t understand him. I think on those days he’s gotten in trouble for messing up his accounts.

I can’t think about that, though. Most of the time, our life is comfortable. We live a pretty meager life in the largest city in the country, but no one knows that our existence is so pitiful. Jeff spends most of his salary on appearances, and we have a lot of credit card debt as well. His boss, Braxton Merriweather, is a billionaire. He throws lavish parties and invites people from his company to join him. Jeff never misses a chance because he wants to be a part of that world, even though we really are not. We come from a small town in the midwestern part of the country, thousands of miles from here. Worlds from here.

During the day, once the apartment is spotlessly clean, I go out to the market and get the ingredients to fix Jeff a nice meal. Today, I’ll get something extra special, even though my allowance for the month is almost gone. It is a special day, after all. Today is our two year anniversary.

I wonder if Jeff remembers. He didn’t say anything this morning. We woke up when his alarm went off, had sex like we do every morning, and then he got ready for work, heading out the door before 8:00 so that he can make all of the connecting trains he has to in order to get to the office by nine. I will do the shopping, keep the apartment clean, secretly work on my art that Jeff does not know I’m still working on, and have dinner ready when he gets home, which will probably be around 7:00. He likes to leave work late so that Mr. Merriweather thinks that he is working hard, even though I am guessing everyone knows he isn’t actually working late when he stays late. He is usually watching X rated videos on his phone. Jeff watches those on the train as well. He watches them all the time and then asks me to try to do the things in the videos, even though I don’t like it. Sometimes… I don’t like Jeff.

He’s different now than he was when we started dating. But then, that was almost nine years ago, when we were only sophomores in high school. We both had dreams of coming to the big city. I wanted to be an artist, and he wanted to be a huge financial planner and own his own company. We both graduated from college, his degree in finance, mine in art, got married, and moved to the big city to pursue our dreams.

Except… as soon as this ring went on my finger, Jeff changed, and now, the only dreams I get to chase are his.

I try to push those thoughts aside as I get ready to go out to the market. It’s a warm spring day, but I wear my jacket. Jeff says it’s important to make sure that every part of me is covered when I go out in public. He says I have a nice figure, and he doesn’t want to have to knock someone’s teeth out because of wandering eyes--especially mine. Jeff has never hurt me before, but I believe him when he threatens that he might.

I get my pocketbook and my phone and the keys to the apartment, thinking I might get steak, even though it’s expensive. It’s one of Jeff’s favorites. I haven’t gotten him a gift for our anniversary, but I did get him a card. I hope that he likes it. I doubt he has gotten me anything, but that’s okay. I won’t make a fuss.