“Are you sniffing me?”
I am nestled into the crook of Alexander’s neck. His arm is draped around me, holding me tight as his fingers play with the loose strands of my hair. It’s sometime in the afternoon. We haven’t left my apartment all day. Right now, we are lying in my bed, listening to music and enjoying each other.
My cheeks redden at being caught smelling my boyfriend.
Oh, God, that sounds so high school.
“Yes. In Italy you smelled of sea and soap. Now you just smell like soap.” I burrow my head back into its special spot along the side of his neck and resume playing with the light hair of his stomach. He never wears cologne. I tried to broach the topic in Capri but he skirted the issue. If we’re going to make it work he has to tell me everything.
“Who was she?”
His body stiffens beneath me. My head is so close to his pulse I can feel it elevate through his skin. Whoever she is, he’s not entirely over her. He doesn’t answer immediately so I push harder. “Was she the first or the second love?”
“The second.” He lets out a long breath and his pulse begins to taper.
“What was her name?”
“Does it matter?”
I look up and lightly kiss his tightened jawbone and take my spot back into the crook of his neck. “It matters to me.”
His breathing is deep yet controlled as if he’s trying to calm himself. Who ever she is, whatever she did to him, has scarred him deeper than the wound on my hand.
“Her name was Kathryn.”
Kathryn. That’s a really pretty name. I was hoping she’d have an evil name like Onyx or Lex. Instead, she sounds like a member of the royal family.
“She loved the smell of my cologne. She never told me. I knew from the way she reacted so I used to spray it everywhere for her. When she left, I couldn’t stand the smell of it anymore.”
I remember his words from last night so vividly. It’s not often the man you love tells you that you aren’t his first, or his second, but his third love. I find myself reciting the words he said about her, “You loved her for all the wrong reasons.”
His hand stops moving along my hairline. I can’t see his face so I don’t know what he’s thinking. All I know is his pulse elevates just slightly whenever I make a mention of Kathryn. When he resumes playing with my hair, he also resumes talking.
“She’d already given her heart to someone else. She was married.”
This time it is my turn to freeze. He was in love with a married woman? He was the other man in a relationship? Okay, I get it, he’s not perfect. But cheating is a huge deal breaker. I am a very closed-minded person when it comes to the sanctity of marriage. When I eventually make that vow it will be forever.
I sit up on the bed and turn around to look at Alexander. He is exquisite and masculine, everything a woman would fantasize about. I get how a married woman, any woman, would want to be with him. But at what cost?
I feel my face morph into a look of disgust. The skin between my eyes tightens and my mouth turns down.
Alexander leaps off the bed and stands in my small room, his presence taking over most of the space. He runs his hands along the back of his neck and paces slightly beside the bed. “Don’t do it, Emma. Don’t judge me. You asked me to be real. Don’t make me regret it.”
I cough back an exasperated noise. “Sorry if I’m letting you down with my reactions but this is a lot to take in. Did you know she was married when you fell in love with her?”
“Yes. I didn’t know she was a mother. That part hurt.”