Therese stood in front of the mirror, studying her reflection. "What a mess" she thought. The dress she was wearing had been made by Richard's mother, a lovely woman who always tried to help her and Richard, though often she would ask Therese some really personal questions about her family, not only that, every time they met the mother would ask "So Therese, what do you think about spring wedding?" Therese couldn't stand being in the same room for more than an hour with that woman.
The white fabric of the dress she was trying out for diner didn't feel right on her, she felt exposed, as if on display. Each glance from Richard, who was sketching at the desk beside her, made that feeling grow stronger.
She hated that he was there, in the same room as her, especially when there were other rooms in the house and plenty of space downstairs. Living together before marriage was becoming more accepted, especially in New York, and it had made financial sense for them to move in together. Therese had been saving money to join a theater club she'd dreamed of for years. But after five months of living together, she felt increasingly suffocated. Richard was always there, encroaching on her space.
"You look very sexy, babe. I could skip the pasta and go straight to dessert" Richard said with a wink. Every fiber in Therese tensed. His words were like a hot knife against her skin. She hated being called "sexy," despised being called "babe," and the way he said it—his tone dripping with suggestion—made her feel dirty.
Yet, despite her feelings, she forced a smile and replied, "Thanks. Want dessert before dinner?" Richard didn't need further invitation. He stood, walked over to her, and pulled her close.
"You smell so good" he murmured, his lips brushing against her neck. Therese froze. His touch felt like chains binding her, suffocating her. She couldn't move or speak. Why had she even invited him with those words? She didn't want this. Not now. Not like this.
While Richard's hands wandered over her body, her eyes focused on the window. The raindrops from earlier still clung to the glass, some racing downward, others standing still waiting for their time to move. She watched the faint glow of car lights reflecting in them, their movements erratic and unpredictable and then she felt the same drops on her face. Just as she tried to wipe off her tiers, she saw a dark, lean figure outside—a woman, standing alone, gazing up at the sky. Somehow the sight of the woman snapped Therese back to reality. She looked down at her half-undressed body and at Richard, who was unbuttoning her shirt. Summoning her courage, she gently pushed him away.
"I'm sorry, Richard" she said softly. "We really have to get going. Maybe we can pick this up later?"
Richard sighed, frustrated. "Fine. But you always say that, and we end up falling asleep in different rooms." He retreated to the other room, grumbling.
As soon as he was gone, Therese collapsed into quiet sobs. She tore off the dress and stood there, naked, illuminated by the warm streetlight streaming through the window. Her pale skin glowed softly in the light, the car headlights casting fleeting patterns on her arms and shoulders. The light's touch felt more natural, more comforting than Richard's hands ever had.
It wasn't the first time he had touched her like that. They'd been intimate three or four times since moving in together, but it had never brought her joy. It was something she thought she was supposed to do—an obligation now that they been living together.
Therese couldn't think anymore. She grabbed a set of her old clothes, simple and familiar, and put them on. She felt safe in them.
"We can go now" she called out to Richard.
But her thoughts were elsewhere. She couldn't stop thinking about the woman outside. What had she been looking at? The clouds? The stars?