"She absolutely despises me. She cannot bear the thought of being around me. She hates me!" Howard threw his hands in the air in surrender. He paced the length of the study, the sound of his heavy boots on the wooden floors reverberating throughout the house. "Three weeks! Still, I cannot get her to look at me like I'm human. I am absolutely convinced I married a woman without a heart."

Howard was tired. He was married to a woman who treated him like the plague. Three weeks and he still couldn't share the beauty of intimacy with Gloria. Whenever he tried — and he tried a lot — he would be forced to give up. He would turn from her, shame washing over him. It was the same feeling that filled him whenever he visited a brothel — the feeling of being with a prostitute.

The towns' folk loved Howard. He saw the way the women practically adored him and he saw the disappointment in their eyes when the news of his marriage spread around town; he could have had anyone he wanted, but the woman he chose despised him.

"Do you know the worst part, Father? She doesn't withhold herself from me. Yet, I feel like she is withholding everything."

What sort of woman was Gloria? She gave him her body, yet withheld her heart. She closed her heart — if she had one — to any notion of feelings toward him. The woman was cold-hearted.

Frustrated, he stomped over to where his father sat and propped himself angrily on a chair. He didn't think he could continue with the marriage.

Stuart glanced up to acknowledge him briefly before glancing back down at the pile of paper on his desk, a pen in hand. Howard had been complaining for over an hour, but Stuart sat there, barely even paying attention to him. He would normally feel offended by his father's aloofness, but he was desperate to release his frustration, and in that moment, it didn't matter whether or not Stuart provided words of encouragement.

Did he make a terrible mistake by choosing to marry a woman he knew nothing about? If only he had not been such an idiot! If only he had waited to get to know her first. But hadn't! He chose instead to give in to his lust; to give in to her deceptive beauty — a beauty strong enough to draw you in and powerful enough to make you want to kill yourself.

Stuart finally dropped his pen on the pile of paper and glanced up, tired brown eyes coming to rest on him. Howard usually attributed his father's tiredness to old age, but lately, it worried him to think something might be wrong.

"Have you tried talking to her?" Stuart asked, before rising to his feet and heading for the door.

"What?!" Howard barked, turning his frustration on his father as he watched him exit the study and slam the door behind him.

Talk? Talking to an unreasonable woman proffered no consolation for Howard's predicament. There was no talking to Gloria; it was simply useless! She didn't have a single reasonable bone in her body. Yet, his father thought the solution to his marital problem was talking!

Fine!

He rose to his feet, pushing the chair back as he did. A loud sound followed his action as the wooden chair crashed against the wall.

He'd talk. In fact, he'd do so much more than talking; he'd give Gloria a large chunk of his mind, and Gloria could bet her selfish life on it she was going to listen!

*

Gloria leaned back heavily against the tree's branch and folded her legs, her eyelids pulling close as the scent of green leaves and green grass filled her nostrils, giving her an illusion of peace.

It had been ages since she had been on a tree, but she remembered well her love for climbing trees while staring at the birds and wishing she could fly. Her love for trees had filled her mother with fear that no gentleman would consider her for a wife, but her father had teased that no man could resist her beauty: her green eyes, sparkling white skin and charcoal hair that contrasted with her skin so perfectly. Her parents looked forward to the day that their precious gem would be someone's wife and would have a fairy-tale story of her own —how disappointed they would be to see her now.

Fate had taken her on a wild ride: from the safety of her parents' love, to a brothel and now, to a false marriage.

She thought of Coleen. No doubt the conniving whore would gouge her eyes out if she had the slightest clue of the life Gloria now had; a life in a mansion, fine cuisine, expensive clothes, and the best carriages — Coleen would die from jealousy. The best part of Gloria's new life was the way the town folks practically worshipped her. They didn't treat her like trash; they stared at her in awe.

It was a life Gloria didn't think in a million years she would ever have, yet, here she sat, married and not just to any man but to a man who wanted so much more than her body; to a man who wanted her love.

Unfortunately, love was nothing but a myth to Gloria. She tried it once with a man named Marcus; charming looks, impeccable smile, and a lying tongue. After promising to run off with her so she could have a life outside the brothel and marry her, he ended up stealing from her and leaving her behind.

She saw men claim to love their wives, yet choose her to spend their nights and money on. She saw men take advantage of little girls who could pass off as their daughters. If that was love, then love was not a thing Gloria was willing to commit to.

But Howard longed for it. She saw it in his eyes when he looked at her — hope for her affection. It was hope she could never fulfil, for unknown to him, he was married to a prostitute who was completely incapable of loving, no matter how hard she tried. She would—

"Gloria!"

The sound of her name broke through her thoughts, forcing her back to the present. Listening closely, she was slightly surprised to find that someone was beckoning her.

She tore her eyelids apart and scanned the cluster of trees in search of the source of the sound. As the intruder drew near, she recognized the voice as Howard's and minutes later; he was standing by the foot of the tree, glaring up at her.

"Get yourself off of that tree, we need to talk," he barked, his words sending a shiver of dread down her spine.