“We’ll get to the bottom of this,” he murmurs, his tone conveying his concern. “In the meantime, you should work on earning her trust. She’s your wife, Dion. You shouldn’t have to spy on her like this.”
“I know,” I murmur, my heart twisting painfully. I did this. I enforced so much distance between us she won’t even tell me what made her play until her fingers bled. She’ll give me her body freely, but no more than that, and I only have myself to blame.
Initially, I thought it must’ve been about Eric, but the longer I think about it, the less likely it seems. If she’d loved him enough to inspire such despair, she wouldn’t have ridden me the way she did. She wouldn’t have let me near her like that at all, and she certainly wouldn’t have looked me in the eye as she came for me twice. I don’t think it was him she was referring to when she told me she needed to forget.
I’m still lost in thought an hour later when Maria walks into my office. “Dion?” she says, startling me. Her expression tells me she’s been trying to get my attention for a while now, and I sigh as I straighten in my seat.
She walks toward me with a folder in her hands, only to pause in the middle of the room. She slowly twirls around, her eyes roaming over the walls. “This office is so different from your smaller one in London,” she murmurs. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this.”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “Me too.” It’s been quite an adjustment, and not just because of Faye. Coming back has been more complicated than I thought it’d be. For a little while, I deluded myself into thinking I’d escaped my demons, only to find them waiting for me the moment I returned home.
Maria stares at me, her expression forlorn, and guilt instantly starts to eat at me. “Maria, you know you didn’t have to come with me, right? I know I’m asking a lot of you, and all of your friends and family live in London. I’d understand if you wanted to stay there. Just say the word, and I’ll write you a glowing letter of recommendation.”
She looks down for a moment, her short blonde hair brushing over her shoulders. “You never asked,” she says, her tone different to usual. “I offered to come with you, but I wish you’d asked.”
We’ve been working together for nearly ten years now, having met at university. In all that time, she’s always been professional. Today is the first time she’s showing me some vulnerability, and I’m not sure how to handle it.
“I’m grateful,” I say eventually. “I hope you know that.”
Maria nods and pastes a smile on to her face, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course. You wouldn’t last a day without me, you know?”
I study her for a moment, trying to decipher her mellow mood. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’s homesick. “I won’t hold it against you if you change your mind, Maria. If you want to move back, I’ll fully support you.”
She looks away and grimaces. “No,” she says, her voice soft. “I want to be by your side. There’s so much left to do with the relocation and our existing contracts, and it’ll be tough on you. You can’t do everything alone, Dion. It’s okay to rely on people every once in a while.”
I nod. “I do rely on you.”
“Not as much as I want you to,” she murmurs, before shaking her head and pasting on that professional expression I’ve grown accustomed to. “I actually came in to bring you the budgets for the Windsor Staccato Foundation,” she tells me, before I have a chance to respond to her earlier comment.
I frown. “Shouldn’t this have been given to Faye?”
Maria freezes, surprise flashing through her eyes. “The foundation has always been important to you, so I figured you’d want the final say. You never even wanted your grandmother to interfere with it more than she needed to.”
I purse my lips as I take the folder from her, my mind already trailing back to Faye. Perhaps this would be a good distraction for her, something to give her purpose. She’s thrown herself into the administrative work behind our charities, but perhaps a more active role would be good for her. I think she’d love to teach. I’ll have to suggest it to her.
“Dion?”
I look up and raise my brows.
“You always said your marriage was just a familial obligation, and that you couldn’t care less who you married. For years, you acted that way too. Did something change?”
I frown, confused by her question. Maria is probably my only friend other than Xavier, so it isn’t entirely out of the ordinary for her to ask me this, but somehow, it doesn’t sit well with me. “Why do you ask?”
She looks into my eyes, a weak smile on her lips. “I was just curious,” she says. “I want you to be happy. Being forced into a marriage with someone you don’t really know, someone who is far too young to truly be your equal, it just seems… I’m just worried you’ll end up settling for less than you deserve. Making the best of a bad situation isn’t the same as pursuing true happiness.”
I look away. “I would never cheat on my wife,” I tell her, my voice harsh. “So my only choice is to make the best of it and give my marriage a chance.”
“For now,” Maria says, her tone sharp. “In three years, you’ll have complied with your grandmother’s terms, and you’ll be able to divorce her. Then what? Three years will fly by.”
Unease runs down my spine, and I look away. I always knew I’d marry Faye, and I never considered that it didn’t have to be forever. I always assumed I’d only marry once in my life, yet twice now, I’ve been reminded that I could lose her.
Maria shoots me a sweet smile before walking out, leaving me with my spiraling thoughts. It never occurred to me that I truly may have to let Faye go in three years.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Faye
I’m in partial disbelief as Lauren, our housekeeper, leads Raven into the living room. She smiles at me as I jump to my feet, pulling my fingers away from the piano.
Dion and I have existed in our own little bubble since getting married. For the first few weeks, we’re exempt from having to attend the usually mandatory weekly family dinner with everyone else, and I’ve been beyond grateful for it. It’s kept me from being overwhelmed while adjusting to our marriage, but I knew the reprieve wouldn’t last. Raven dropping by is likely the first indication of it.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she says, her tone apologetic. “I called earlier, but I couldn’t reach you, so I thought I’d stop by to see if you were home.”
“Not at all,” I reassure her, despite my nerves. I’ve never been alone with her before, and I’m not sure how to act. “Please, come in.”
She nods and glances around the living room, her eyes sparkling. “Your home’s interior is truly stunning,” she says, a hint of awe in her voice. “Who designed it?”
I’m lost for words. Is she attempting to flatter me, or is her praise genuine? “Um, I did.”
Raven’s eyes widen. “You didn’t hire an interior designer?”
I shake my head. “Dion said I could do it myself if I wanted to, so I did.”
“Wow,” she murmurs. “Ares and I had our house renovated not too long ago, but it isn’t anywhere near as nice as this. Did you study interior design?”
I shake my head, uncomfortable. “I did look up some basics, but mostly, this was all me. I’d love to take a course someday, though.”
Raven looks around excitedly, and just as she parts her lips to ask more questions, Lauren walks in with cups of tea for both of us, along with a platter of cookies. She grins at Raven. “Your grandmother sent these over for Faye,” she murmurs. “I have successfully kept that tidbit of information from Sierra.”
I watch as the famous model swipes a cookie from the plate and shoves it into her mouth, crumbs falling all over her clothes. She catches me looking and slaps a hand over her mouth, soft laughter escaping her lips.
“I’m sorry,” she says once she’s done chewing. “The cookies… it’s a thing. Sierra and I have been fighting over these cookies for years, so now when I see them, I instinctively just grab them. I’ve gotten used to having to be quicker than she is. You’ll find out soon enough. Once Sierra learns you’ve got cookies, she’ll come knocking.”
I stare at her wide-eyed and push the plate toward her. “You can have all of them,” I tell her awkwardly. I love the cookies, but I’m not sure I love them as much as she does.
She bursts out laughing and grabs her bag. “I’m going to send Sierra a picture. I know she’s stuck in a meeting right now, so she’ll be fuming. It’ll be fun.”
My heart aches as I watch her, a new kind of longing rushing through me. I know that Sierra and Raven were best friends long before Raven married Ares, but witnessing their friendship fills me with a type of envy I’ve never felt before. I’ve never really had friends of my own, and what they have seems beyond anything I could even hope for.
“Here,” Raven says, handing me a couple of fashion magazines. “This is what I actually came for.”