I stood and followed my father out of the room. Once the door closed behind us, we made our way to the living room.
“Other than Alexander overworking himself, how’s married life treating you?” my father asked once we were seated on the couch.
I shrugged, unsure how to respond. I hated lying to my father, but it wasn’t as though things were bad—they just weren’t good, either. Then again, what did I expect from a fake marriage?
“We’re settling in,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. “There are a lot of adjustments to make.”
“I remember what that was like,” my father said with a fond smile. “Your mother and I were very different people when we first married. Getting used to each other’s particularities took time, but in the end, we discovered we were more compatible than we init
