The Arrangement

Chapter 21

The Pacific shimmered under the full moon's ghostly light, the lunar tide a palpable presence. David felt its pull deeply, an unnerving energy that fueled his growing unease. He wasn't ready, not for the life-altering shift his wife so desperately wanted.

Malibu's waves mirrored his angst, each crash a reminder of the conversation he dreaded.

He stood on his beachfront deck dressed in his tailored black Tom Ford suit, usually a source of confidence, which felt like a costume tonight. He'd even meticulously chosen a green tie to complement Marlena's look, a small gesture of love that now felt laced with deceit. He was going through the motions, preparing himself for an evening of forced smiles and cordial handshakes, but his heart wasn't in it. He was in a funk, a deep, dark gully of anxiety and guilt, and he yearned to stay home and wallow in it. A cool breeze washed over his face as the moonlit ocean intensified his unease, a romantic setting for a decidedly unromantic truth.

Their counseling session loomed over him, a dark cloud threatening to unleash a storm. It was in the morning, and he couldn't think of anything else. He'd made up his mind that the session with the surrogacy agent would be the arena for his confession, the moment he'd break the news to Marlena that he didn't want to have a baby. The presence of a mediator would, ideally, soften the blow, provide support for Marlena, and help David navigate this treacherous situation with minimal damage.

He checked his watch, the ticking a relentless reminder of the dwindling time. Time to plaster on a smile, pretend everything was better than ever, and make the rounds. But the thought of even one cocktail sent a jolt of panic through him. After two drinks, he was certain, all bets would be off, and he would blurt out his agonizing truth before he was ready. He needed to check on Marlena, nudge her to hurry, if they were going to stick to their plan - make an appearance, shake a few hands, and beat a hasty retreat.

David stepped into the kitchen, stopping at the sleek granite counter. He began sorting through the mail - bills, magazines, junk, the usual. Then he noticed a black envelope addressed to him and Marlena Silberstein. Elegant and bold, it stood out from the rest, with no return address he recognized. Curiosity piqued, he tore it open to find a formal, black-tie invitation. As his eyes scanned the elegant script, they landed on the reason for the party - a surprise birthday party. The details about the guest of honor caused his jaw to clench.

"Honey, we should have left fifteen minutes ago," David called out. He forced a casual tone, hoping it would mask the tremor in his soul. He climbed the stairs, each step measured, each step a struggle to maintain composure. His footsteps grew heavier as he neared the room, the black invitation clutched tightly in his hand.

Their bedroom had become a world of fashion chaos. Dresses, silk, and satin lay strewn across their bed like fallen soldiers in a sartorial war. Marlena emerged from the walk-in closet, a picture of simple elegance in a purple Christian Siriano dress. She gave zero effs that she'd worn it to an event last year, a night celebrating David's musical genius. At this point in the game, if she could get the zipper up, it was the dress for tonight. She walked toward David, turning her exposed back to him.

"Zip me, please."

David slid the nylon zipper up Marlena's back, the smooth fabric a harsh difference to the knot of anxiety in his stomach. He looked at his tie. "What happened to the green? You told me you were wearing green."

Marlena shook her head, her gaze avoiding his. "So did I. But I couldn't find the right underpinnings. And honestly, I wish I'd gotten a stylist. This whole night feels like a dress rehearsal for a disaster."

"Can we just not go?" David asked, the plea escaping his lips before he could censor it.

Marlena turned to him. "I have to make an appearance. It's my first public outing since the show aired."