Aaron was strange from childhood.
Aaron, 26, read and had long chats while his buddies scrolled through dating apps for bouncy twenty-somethings and partied through love’s early chapters. Neither glitter nor glitz interested him. Depth fascinated him. Wisdom, experience.
It’s perhaps why Aaron’s friends gasped when he announced his engagement to 44-year-old Celeste.
Marcus, his best friend, choked on his coffee and exclaimed, “Forty-four?”
Aaron replied simply, “She’s been through life,” smiling. “She knows herself. Her world is known. And she knows me.”
Celeste was unique. She was elegant like classic movie stars as a former creative director with excellent taste. Her voice and emotions were serene. Celeste listened while younger women giggled and fluttered. She asked substantive inquiries. She dug deep, and Aaron, always seeking authenticity, was hooked.
He proposed after two months of courting. Aaron stood tall throughout their tiny wedding despite whispers.
“Some men like 18-year-old girls. “I married someone 18 years older,” he boasted in his vows. “And I regret nothing.”
“She grew. A grounded woman. I need nothing more than her.”
Though several guests looked confused, everyone cheered graciously. Aaron had the best day of his life.
The Wedding Night
Their honeymoon suite was dimly lit and perfumed with lavender and vanilla. Aaron, nervous and excited, changed into his nightwear as candles danced around the walls. He sat at the bed’s edge, arranging pillows to quiet his heartbeat.
A soft doorknock.
Celeste wore a liquid-light white silk nightgown. Her makeup was flawless, and her curled hair fell over one shoulder. She was beautiful, like a painting.
Nervously, Aaron grinned. “You look beautiful,” he whispered.
Celeste smiled but declined to speak. She cautiously approached the bed and sat alongside him. Though remote, her smile persisted.
He waited for her to say something—anything. She stared ahead, nearly lost in contemplation.
Aaron laughed softly to break the silence. Would you prefer to speak first?
She nodded softly without speaking.
Maybe she wants me to lead, he thought.
Aaron bravely leaned near her. Celeste whispered, “I’m tired,” as his fingertips touched her sleeve. I’ll sleep first.”
She turned to the wall, her hair fanning across the pillow.
Aaron laid alongside her, confused but respectfully gazed at the ceiling.
Aaron had to use the bathroom at 3 a.m.
Rolling out of bed carefully, he tried not to wake Celeste. He navigated the dim room with a hallway nightlight.
He saw something weird when he passed the full-length mirror beside the closet.
He froze.
A hanger next to the mirror held Celeste’s white silk nightgown.
He felt his heart thud.
“But she’s still in bed.”
Aaron slowly returned to bed.
As she faced the wall, her long dark hair cascaded over the pillow, and her left hand was visible. still wearing her wedding band.
Suppose Celeste was in the bathroom with her nightgown hanging.
Who or what was lying in the bed?
Just then, the hallway light flickered. A soft buzz, then darkness. The bed figure was still there when it blinked on.
Aaron squinted. “That hand looked off.”
That was too still.
The arm dropped, dropping off the bed unnaturally. Nearly weightless.
Aaron ran back and removed the cover, alarmed.
The sight stopped him breathing.
A full-sized silicone mannequin lay in bed. Its lifelike face had a sweet grin like Celeste’s. The hair matched. Even the eyes sparkled realistically.
Body limp, arm severed at joint, dangling awkwardly by a hook.
Aaron recoiled in dread. “Wh–what is this?!” he shouted.
Just then, the bathroom door cracked open.
Celeste left calmly with her makeup off and hair in a bun. She wore a simple cotton robe and appeared more normal.
“Oh,” she murmured, blinking at him. “You awake?”
Voice shaking, Aaron pointed at the bed. “What is that?”
Celeste groaned, explaining something obvious. “I don’t usually sleep next to strangers on the first night,” she whispered. “So… My younger sister replaced me.”
“Your what?! A doll! A fool!”
“Isn’t she sweet?” Celeste replied calmly. Didn’t argue. No snoring. Avoided awkward small conversation…
Aaron couldn’t believe his ears. You—are you serious?! You left me a mannequin?
“You said you liked older, experienced women,” she added quietly. “And we have creative sleeping arrangements.”
After shrugging, she passed him, carefully pulled the cover back over the mannequin, and opened the wardrobe.
A second mannequin head with red lipstick and short curls was retrieved from a velvet box while Aaron stood frozen.
“She’s for Wednesday nights,” Celeste said. A touch sassier. Don’t worry—you won’t meet her unless it’s serious.”
Aaron slept none that night.
Celeste served him eggs and chamomile tea the next morning. She recommended a boutique vineyard and local art displays that weekend. As if nothing unusual happened.
Aaron asked about the mannequin, but she grinned and added, “Isn’t it wonderful when relationships can be imaginative?”
Somehow, he nodded.
The truth was, she still intrigued him. He knew what to say. He still felt special.
She asked him to reorganize her vintage hats that day. Next, they designed a home garden. Aaron soon laughed again, conversing late into the night and learning about the world through her eyes.
Despite this, he still checked upon entering bed each night.
Was her warmth alongside him hers?
Was it “her little sister” again?
No longer sure.
A Unique Marriage
Aaron eventually accepted that marrying Celeste meant embracing mystery.
Her closet of wigs and silent “tea parties” with three Chanel-clad mannequin torsos were curiosities. He noticed a pair of men’s gloves alongside his toothbrush—she called them “George,” and said he helped emotionally.
Was it strange?
Absolutely.
Was she compassionate, creative, and deep?
Also, yes.
After several months of marriage, Aaron asked the question that had been bothering him since the first night.
“Celeste, why the mannequin?”
She replied gently, “Because people leave too quickly. I sometimes need someone to stay.”
She said softly. Vulnerable.
Aaron didn’t observe a strange older woman then.
He saw someone who had overcome losses and filled voids with art for years. and who wasn’t shy about being herself.
He kissed her hand.
“I’ll stay,” he muttered.
“Even if I wake up with your ‘little sister’ again?”
Celeste grinned. “She won’t mind sharing.”
They laughed, and Aaron recognized for the first time that finding comfort in strange places may be the greatest wisdom.
Aaron now gets up at 3 a.m. without panicking.
Just checking the nightgown on the hook.
Sometimes he pokes the figure next him for confirmation.
If warm and breathing, he kisses her cheek.
If silicone, he tucks it in, grins, and goes to tea.
He’s discovered love isn’t always what you expect.
Sometimes odd is better.