He watched me with dark eyes that glittered in the candlelight. I knew I hadn't offended him with my remark. It took a lot to ruffle my husband's feathers.
My smile was thin as I accepted a refill of wine. The alcohol was certainly going to my head as my lips were loosening.
Dinner was swept away with a quick flourish, and a beautiful strawberry panna cotta was served alongside a dessert wine.
Conversation soon moved to politics. It was something we were both passionate about, and with the current world climate, we were painfully aware of our privileged position. It was one of those things that had drawn me close to Alessio. Despite his…ruthlessness, he had compassion and was extremely generous to those less fortunate. He also took an outspoken stance against atrocities happening around the world, which made some of his peers squirm.
We moved seamlessly through topics until that final blanket of tension shifted away, and we were able to laugh and joke with one another.
After our plates were cleared, we sat for a while and continued to enjoy each other's company. Because I truly was having fun with Alessio. Our easy banter and undertones of flirtatious quips came fast and plenty. We volleyed off each other, and I appreciated that he found no offence when I spoke my mind. Too often, the men of my world preferred their women to be silent hosts and agreeable dolls. Knowledgeable about politics, economics, and art, but at the bare minimum, never to outshine them. Alessio held no such sexist beliefs and listened avidly to my opinion, and vice versa.
Finally, after topics were exhausted and another bottle of wine was popped, I felt confident enough—fuelled by the good wine, of course—to broach a subject we needed to address.
"Alessio," I hesitantly started. "What were you doing at The Glen that day?"
The question was enough to squash the pleasant atmosphere we fought so hard to create and maintain. A part of me regretted asking it because we could no longer go on pretending. But at the same time, I didn't want to continue with the charade that everything was and would be fine.
I also wondered if he was having me followed, and that's how he knew. I had a driver, Gordon, who took me to uni in the morning, and I usually dismissed him in favour of taking the tube home. Was he reporting my movements?
Alessio's jaw tightened before he lifted his glass and downed the remaining contents.
"Damon knows the owner," he rasped. "He grew up next door to him and his wife. The hotel's been in his family for generations, but, unfortunately and unsurprisingly, it's now bleeding money. Damon asked me to meet him as a favour, to see if I could impart some advice."
My tense shoulders came down at his explanation. "That was nice of you. I know you didn't need to personally meet up with him. You could've passed it onto one of your hotel managers to inspect."
He stared at his drink for a long moment, his gaze dark and brooding. "Yes, well, Damon is like a brother to me. I was happy to help."
I stared at his profile a while, wondering whether we would have a real conversation about this, or whether it was another part of our marriage we were going to sweep under the rug.
"I'm sorry for mentioning The Glen. I was just curious what you were doing there that day, that's all. It was just such a big coincidence," I probed.
"Yes, and not at all a happy one."
I flinched at his hardened tone but didn't cower under his dark mood.
Alessio kept his gaze on his empty glass for a few moments before he slowly said, "I wanted to talk to you about that."
I sat up straight, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. I often wondered if he even cared about what I'd done. Or whether he was simply annoyed that he had to be confronted by it.
"I want to close our marriage."
I blanched, stunned at his words. "Like…like, divorce?"
Alessio's startled eyes met mine.
"No." His voice had risen a few octaves before he cleared his throat. "No. Not a divorce. I meant…I no longer want an open marriage. In fact, I regret even insisting on one. I want this marriage to be just between us. You and me. No third party."
"You mean a fourth party," I flatly corrected.
"What?"
"A third party suggests that only one of us has someone." I gave him a sardonic smile. "And we both know that's not the case."
His face darkened, and he pointedly ignored my barb. "What I'm trying to say is, I do not want that for us anymore. I will no longer take a mistress. I will be faithful only to you. And you will also stop seeing…him.”
His stare was unwavering, daring me to object. The edges of his mouth tugged slightly in a smirk, and I saw the same answering smugness in his eyes.
"No."
