Edward didn’t look up from his phone. It had sat in his hand since he had sat down for dinner, his eyes glued to it as if he were in a trance. “Yes, dear?” He mumbled. 

“I would like to adjust my room to better suit my interests,” Rose said. She smiled to prevent her growing annoyance out of her voice. What is the point of having dinner together if he wouldn’t even look in her direction?

“Yes, yes. Whatever you wish, my dear,” Edward said, eyes still glued to his phone.

“Really?” Rose smiled wider, sincerely this time. “You’ll really let me? I was thinking about painting the walls, replacing the furniture, hanging pictures, and really making it my own space. I didn’t think you’d agree, since everything in there is so lavish and expensive.”

Finally, Edward met her eyes. “Of course, my dear. It is your room to do what you wish. However, I hope that someday you will get your snoring under control so that we may share a room.” He leaned across the table and took her hand in his, the first real physical contact they have had. Suddenly, he grimaced. “But I do hope that doesn’t include a mouth guard. Those are so unattractive, and if I were to share a bed with my beautiful wife then I would wish you look your best.”

Rose took a sip of her tea to hide her disgust. “Of course, dear. I’ll see what I can do about the, um… snoring.” She had forgotten that she used snoring as an excuse to get out of sharing a room with Edward. 

Edward retrieved his hand and went back to absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. Rose cleared her throat. “Edward, dear, what is drawing your attention away from me?” She asked, sweetly. 

“Oh, you know, just some work stuff. You shouldn’t worry your pretty little head about it. I wouldn’t expect you to understand, anywhere. This is man’s work.” He laughed to himself. 

Rose swallowed hard and pushed herself back from the table. “If I may be excused. I shall retire to my room now.” 

Edward only waved his hand to dismiss her. Rose stood before him for only a moment, wondering if he would say something, anything, to acknowledge her. When he didn’t, she turned and headed to her room. She hurried through the house, towards her room. She was suddenly so tired after the day’s events, and all she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and hide under thick blankets. Edward’s behavior towards her only reminded her of her father’s behavior toward her, and now she felt so small and child-like. 

Rose planned to throw herself onto her bed and watch a comfort movie as soon as she got to her room, but once she stepped inside she was greeted by the ugly walls, and tacky decorations. This was not the time to mope, she decided, this was the time to plan her decorations. She had gotten to go-ahead, afterall. 

“Owen!” She called down the stairs, not knowing exactly where to find him. Edward had dismissed him right before their meal, and she didn’t know what he usually did during his free time. She didn’t really know what he did at all, she realized. “Owen!” She called again, louder this time, as he hadn’t appeared before her yet. 

“Yes, princess?” Owen said, materializing next to her. 

Rose jumped. “Where did you even come from?” She asked.

“My room,” He said, pointing down the hall a little ways. 

“Of course,” Rose said, feeling silly. “I need your help.”

“With?” Owen raked a hand through his hair.

Rose led him to her room and opened the door. He grimaced at the sight. “This,” She stated.

“Yeah, I can definitely see why you need help. This is terrible. Alright, what’s the plan?”

Rose and Owen sat comfortably on the floor of Rose’s room. Owen had his laptop in front of him and he was scrolling through paint samples online. Rose sat beside him, her back pressed against the wall and she was furniture shopping from her phone. A bowl of popcorn that Owen had brought up from the kitchen sat between them. He had said they needed “serious thinking food”, and apparently that meant popcorn. 

“What do you think of this color?” Owen asked. Rose leaned over and looked at his computer screen.

“No pink,” Rose said. 

“If this is about differentiating yourself from the average woman by denying yourself perfectly fine things like pink, and latte’s, and comfortable UGG boots, then I really think you need to reevaluate your idea of feminism,” Owen said.

Rose nudged him with her arm and laughed. “It had nothing to do with my idea of feminism, nor does it have anything to do with putting down other women for being “basic” to make myself feel superior for having less mainstream tastes. It’s just… my name.”

“You’re name,” Owen repeated, clearly not getting what she meant.

“Yeah. You know how my name is Rose-”

“If I remember correctly, It’s Roseanne,” Owen teased.

“Hush. Anyway, because my name is Rose people have always gotten me something that was either pink or red. Maybe they found some humor in the congruity of it, but everything I had up until adulthood was either pink or red. You should see my childhood bedroom, it’s like walking into a vagina.” Rose sighed. 

“Setting aside the invite into your bedroom-” Owen started.

“Too late for that,” Rose teased.

“I can see why you don’t want pink. To be honest, I just thought it was a pretty color.” Owen smiled as he scrolled through more paint samples. “If I were to choose a bedroom color for someone with a lot of pent up emotions-” Rose swatted him on the arm. “-then I would choose something in the light blue or green family. They’re calming colors, and I think the lighter colors would really open up the space.” He scrolled a little bit more. “Aha! What about this?”

Rose leaned against him slightly and stared at the screen. The paint sample that Owen had seen was a mint-green color, almost pastel, but not quite as light. “I like it,” she said, “calming, or whatever it is that you said.” 

Owen smiled down at her. “Okay, so we know what color you want. How’s the furniture shopping going?” 

“It’s okay, I saw a couple things that I liked. Now that we know what color the walls will be, I’ll be able to get serious about the furniture shopping.” She sat back up, once again leaning her back against the wall and scrolling through her shopping app. “The sooner I get this done, the sooner I don’t have to wake up to this atrocious decor.”

After hours of online shopping, and trading interior design opinions, Rose and Owen found themselves laying side-by-side on the rug in Rose’s room. The popcorn bowl had only kernels left, and a half-drank pot of coffee had been forgotten to the side. 

“What do you even do?” Rose asked in a hushed tone, since the sun had long set. 

“I thought I told you at your wedding reception. I’m a glorified errand boy,” Owen replied, chuckling.

“I mean, I remember that. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do anything assistant-like, or even errand-boy-like,” Rose said, rolling over to her side to get a better look at Owen.

“To be honest,” He sighed, “I think Edward only wanted to hire someone to be a well-paid ear. You know how much he likes to hear himself talk, he probably got sick of only talking to himself. I kind of just nod and pretend I know what he’s talking about, and humor him when he asks. Sometimes I fetch his coat for him when he leaves, or I bring him a pot of coffee when he’s working. Other than that, I kind of just do my own thing. I have my own room where I can do whatever I want. Edward bought my laptop for me. I usually have Sundays off, and I visit my friends and family during that time. It’s not a bad job. I have a free roof over my head, I don’t have to worry about utilities or food, and I get paid for just listening to a rich prick inflating his own ego.” He rolled over too, now they were laying face-to-face. “But what about you? You told Edward that you’re studying sociology.”

“I am,” Rose said. The idea that he remembered something that she mentioned, not even to him, made her stomach do summersaults. No one has ever cared about her studies. Not in the high-class world, at least. “I attend Syracuse University, majoring in sociology.I don’t know what exactly I want to do with my degree once I get it, though. I know that I want to get a job helping people, though.”

Owen’s eyes grew wide with shock and Rose gave him a quizzical look. “Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to seem so shocked. Just… When you first mentioned that you were studying sociology, I thought it was ironic seeing that you come from high-society. I didn’t really think you truly cared about it, I just thought that you wanted a degree with a fancy word on it. Again, sorry.”

Rose laughed softly. “It’s okay. You’re not the first person who has had that impression. I know I’m privileged. I know that I can’t relate to a lot of people’s struggles and life, and they can’t relate to mine. And to be honest, that’s really isolating. But I also love people. I care for them deeply. And since I’m privileged and can afford things that many can’t, why not use that to make a life helping others? I don’t necessarily want this life or the money that my father gives me.” She let out a deep sigh and let her eyes flutter closed. “To be honest, I’m scared. I’m scared of being cut off and having all these resources that I’ve had my entire life to be gone. I’m scared to live independently. I wasn’t raised to. I was never taught how to take care of myself. So when the threat comes up, of course I bow my head and do what’s asked of me.”

Owen reached over and placed a gentle, reassuring hand on Rose’s shoulder. “Is that why you got married?” He asked gently. 

Rose’s eyes fluttered back open and met his. “Yes,” She answered honestly. “I’m not ready for marriage. I’m not ready to produce an heir. I’ve only met the guy a handful of times, and we never really talked. This isn’t how I pictured my life, but here we are. Now I’m just… stuck.”

“You’re not stuck, though, Rose. There is always another option. There is always another way. I know it may seem like you’re trapped, but you don’t have to be.” Owen kept his voice low and gentle, and Rose found it very comforting. 

“I know that what you say is true, but it doesn’t feel like it, you know? If this marriage with Edward doesn’t work out, then I’m disowned. But Edward makes it so hard to want to make this work.” Rose blinked away tears, not wanting to cry twice in front of the same man in one day. 

“I’ll support whatever you want to do. If you want to try and work this marriage out, then I’ll help you. But if the only thing holding you back from happiness is the fear of being independent, then I really think you should face that fear. I’m sure you have friends at university that could help you out, and I could always teach you how to do things that you’ll have to do once you’re on your own.” 

Rose considered his words. She had never even thought about asking her friends for help, or asking anyone for help for that matter. She only ever saw the options as to live an unhappy life married to a wealthy man to please her father; or be on her own with no home, no job, no money, and no way to know how to navigate the world. 

“I… I don’t know what to do,” Rose finally said.

“That’s okay,” Owen replied, “You don’t have to know what to do. Just think about it. Whenever the answer comes to you, then I’ll help you with whatever option you come up with.”

Rose closed her eyes and smiled. She hummed to herself, imagining living by herself in an apartment somewhere probably cheap. She would decorate her rooms however she wanted without needing to ask for permission. She would surround herself with plants and books. She would be free from her father’s orders and expectations. She would have friends to rely on and who would help her figure out the ways of the world. Most of all, she would be happy.