Work Text:
Gold had locked himself away in his office for a few hours, catching up on much needed paperwork. He had been neglecting his work in favor of the darling little woman who had stolen his heart and moved into his home. Isabel was a welcome distraction, but he couldn't ignore his responsibilities forever. After all, soon he would have a wife to look after. She wasn't entirely pleased about the arrangement, but she didn't look at him with contempt, and she readily gave and received affection. It was more than he had hoped for.
After working for hours, he made his way out of his office. He moved surprisingly silently for a man with a cane, heading towards the living room. He was searching his fiancée out, having been away from her for too long. He called her name out as he neared the living room, entering just in time to watch her jump in fright, tucking her book away under his couch cushions. He raised an eyebrow at her behavior, making his way over to her.
“Hey, Michael.” She said softly, her cheeks a bright shade of red as she looked up at him. He sank down beside her, looking at her curiously.
“Hello dearest. What troubles you?” He asked, and she just shook her head, smiling at him reassuringly.
“Nothing. I'm completely fine. Did you get all your work done?” She asked, clearly trying to distract him.
“I did, I've just a few more bits of paperwork to look over. But I'm taking a break to eat with you. Would you like to order something?” He offered, and she shook her head, smiling.
“I'm cooking. I learned a new recipe I want to try out.” She said, and his mouth nearly watered, because Isabel was a fantastic cook. He had had more homecooked meals with her than ever before. While he was an exceptional cook himself, there was no point in cooking if you were perpetually alone. But now he had her, and he cared for her so much. She would never know how much she meant to him, and he would never mean nearly as much.
“Sounds wonderful.” He said, and she kissed him softly, standing up.
“I'm going to get cooking.” She said, making her way into the kitchen. The moment she was occupied, he slowly slid the book out from under the cushion. He nearly gasped as he saw it.
It was a book about sex. More specifically, what to expect on your first time, and tips to make it more enjoyable. To think that his fiancée had been sitting there, reading such literature! He hadn't expected that she'd be a virgin, and he still wasn't entirely convinced she was. Perhaps she was just nervous about being with him, and had had this book from her previous experience. There was no way a girl as beautiful as she had saved herself for the likes of him. He didn't deserve to be the only one to ever touch her, she was beautiful and special and he was Michael Gold.
Even still, the thought of their first night together sent a fire straight to his loins. This book was evidence that she too was thinking about it. He glanced up at her as she flitted about his kitchen, humming a soft tune as she prepared their meal. In a few short days she would marry him, and he wasn't sure he could handle it. If it was her first time, he would just be her first disappointment. Possibly her last if she for some reason stayed with him and only him. He didn't want her entire life to just be filled with sexual displeasure. He swallowed hard, looking down in guilt.
She deserved better, and judging by the book, was expecting better. Maybe had already had better. He would fail her. Anxiety set into his chest and crushed him, and he hid the book again. Memories of his previous failures came back, and he quickly stood, grabbing his cane.
A reminder of another failure.
He slowly made his way into the kitchen, watching as she looked up at him and smiled. He gave a tight smile back, though her's faded as he reached for the bottle of scotch, filling his glass up. He could hear her sigh sadly, and he drained the glass quickly. She was already disappointed in him. And on their wedding night, he would just further that disappointment. It would be just like his first wife, and she would never love him either.
He filled another glass.