#Chapter18
Arrick is traditional in so many ways, but never in that way. I think if he ever expected that from me, if I were her, I would poison his beer with drain cleaner and tell him to go shove his cooking pots up his ass. I don’t know why she sees being that way as some sort of fulfilling life. I thought women burned their bras back in the nineteen sixties to get away from that role.
I don’t think I ever want to be that girl, for any man. I want to be something that I love, with a life more fulfilling than someone’s domestic sex slave. Like maybe in fashion or design, have my own little studio one day and spend my life flying to events all over the world, while showing off my ideas and lines.
A strange feeling settles inside of me when this pops crazily into my head and I find myself staring out onto the New York skyline dreamily. Caught for a second on an idea of a dream that I haven’t thought about in years.
