Chapter 1: Marriage of Convenience

Before Gilead, I thought I would never marry.

Our old way of life made it possible. Women could work and focus on their careers. They could own their own house. They could choose to remain childless.

That was going to be me, the independent woman. I was going to work my way up to the managing partner of the law firm I worked for. I was not going to have a husband or a wife or anything in between. I had no interest in a sexual relationship, not for the purpose of procreation or for pleasure. I didn't want children. With my money I wanted to travel, and wear nice clothes, and drive a nice car. I owned a beautiful home that I had paid for off my own back.

Gilead law changed everything. It states that a woman cannot work. Cannot own their own home. And are subject to the male figures in their life.

My parents have both died, so going back home was not an option.

The State expected me to marry. That husband would take ownership of my house and my money. And I would have to leave my job. And I would be expected to try and produce a child if I was capable.

In a short space of time I was reduced to nothing. Everything that made me the person I am was no longer recognised by the State. To say that it was a devastation for me is an understatement.

If I could not find a husband in a timely manner, one would be found for me. It would have been a complete stranger. I hated that idea, the idea that someone I didn't know would share my bed, and call MY house his, and claim MY hard earned savings as his own.

The thought made me sick.

My best friend is Christopher James. We worked as friends because he always respected me. Respected my opinions. Valued my independence.

He knew how I felt about marrying a stranger. He offered me a way out.

"Marry me Kat," he said one day.

"What?" No way!

"Marry me."

"But you're already married!"

"The law says I can have more than one wife," he said. This was news to me, but I suppose lots of people in the Bible were polygamous.

"Look," he said. "I know this isn't what you wanted. But at least this way it's someone you know. And we can set the terms. We don't even have to...you know...if you don't want to, I know you're not really into that. And I don't care if we never have a kid. I just don't want some random man taking advantage of you. That would hurt you. And it would hurt me if you were hurt. Kat, you're my best friend. Let me protect you."

He had some good points. I would rather him have my house than some random fucking stranger. And he still had Genevieve (his first wife), so I'd just be living in the house really. Coexisting. Married on paper.

"Ok, fine. I'll do it," I agreed. "Thank you Chris."

I'm not really sure what I was thankful for. He was still going to get everything I had worked hard for, just because he's a man.

--

We ended up being wrong about "setting the terms." It turns out everyone in Gilead seems to know everyone's business. They seem to know when a man has not consummated his marriage, so we only got away with the "no sex" thing for a month. It was expected that at least once a month, he would share my bed.

And everyone in Gilead seems to know which wives are childless: they either have a handmaid due to infertility, or everyone knows their husbands are "neglecting their marital duties".

Even though legally, all wives were treated the same, socially it was a different story.

In most households, the man had one or two wives. A lot of the time, men with one wife also had a "handmaid", a woman deemed fertile enough to be forced to be a surrogate for the wife and birth a child for that wife to raise.

There were also two wife households, men who took a second wife to increase the chance of childbirth. Some of the men were gross in my opinion, they just wanted an excuse to take a younger, prettier wife no older than about 15 or 16 because they were bored with wife number one. Some women, like me, married men they knew out of necessity, to protect themselves from being forced to marry someone the State chose for them.

Two wife households seemed to have their own unwritten hierarchy, as it was most common for the husband to have a favourite wife. This was the wife that the husband would have on their arm at social functions or political events. The wife that the husband would share a bed with. The wife that had the most say in the running of the household.

They were called "Rachels". Because Rachel in the Bible was Jacob's favourite wife.

This usually left the other wife. The one who rarely received any of the husband's affection. The one who was just there to perform the duties of making and raising babies. The silent partner. The unseen partner. The "Leah".

In this arrangement, I was the Leah. My husband, as I expected he would, favoured his first wife, Genevieve. He had loved her longer, and they were married before Gilead existed.

Although my husband and I have an affectionate friend relationship, we had never wanted to marry each other. He had never wanted a second wife, he had only wanted to protect a friend.

I am ok with being a Leah, but I know many women who are discontented with it. Many of the Leahs in Gilead that I have met are their husband's first wife, cast aside for younger, prettier Rachels. Or wives that were Rachels at first, until the other wife gave the husband a much coveted child, increasing their favour. Some Leahs became such after displeasing their husband in some way.

I stopped spending time with other Leahs a few months ago. All they ever did was complain about the Rachels. I suspect this is what the Rachels do about us too. I suspect that Genevieve says a lot of horrible things about me when she's with her friends.

The bigamy system has created a divide between the wives. We fight amongst ourselves. But I suppose that's just another way to keep us under control. So we don't unite. So we don't fight for our rights back.

I wish I could have my old life back.

I hate this place.

Why did God do this to me?