There was a short stab of pain as the memory resurfaced. Even all these years later, I could still recall the visceral hurt I'd felt when I stood outside his door and listened to his voice softly promise another woman his time and pleasure. Having to suck it up and pretend my heart wasn't breaking was the hardest thing I'd had to do.
"I was devastated. But it was also the moment that I grew up. That's when I realised that my marriage was not going to be the exception. That I could either rage at you and we could separate again, or I could take a leaf out of my parents' marriage and make it work. I knew that any romantic notions I had conjured up in my head had to disappear. I was married to someone who treated me well, and for that I should be grateful. After all, you already told me that you would take a mistress, I went into the marriage knowing that already."
Alessio's guilt-ridden gaze slid away from me. His jaw pulsed, and I knew that a million and one regrets were running through his head. He pulled away slightly and ran a palm down his face with a shuddering sigh. I hadn't noticed earlier, but this close, I could see the dark shadows under his eyes and the new stress lines bracketing his firm mouth. Despite his tired appearance, he was still devastatingly handsome, and my own tired body started to stir.
"Sicily was…everything," he confessed in a sharp breath. "I already knew that if I got to know you on a deeper level, I would grow even more infatuated." His mouth tightened, and he shook his head. "But I can see now how wrong I was. I fell in love with you back then. It freaked me out. Lying in bed with you in my arms, after the most profound lovemaking of my life…and then hearing you utter those three words that I was so afraid to sayor even acknowledge…dio mio," he swore at himself. "I thought I could prove that you didn't have a chokehold on me, and the only way to kid myself that I still had some semblance of control was to be with other women."
He turned to me then, his eyes desperate and pleading. "I've only been with two women since Sicily—Marguerite and Annabelle. I saw Marguerite once in a while, and not as often after we got married. I ended things with her not long after Sicily."
I licked my lips and nodded, my eyes not quite meeting his. It still hurt to think of him with other women. Alessio let out an undignified whimper as he pulled me closer. His spicy scent invaded my senses, although slightly dulled from our lovemaking and shower.
"Please look at me,tesoro. Please don't shut me out. I want to be honest with you, one hundred per cent, so there are no questions left unanswered or any worries left to quell. Ask me anything, I will be truthful, I promise you."
The desperation in his voice conveyed his distress. I didn't want to absolve him of the repercussions of his actions, but it also pained me to know any further details.
But I had to. Otherwise, I would also wonder.
"And what about Annabelle?" I finally asked, my voice surprisingly steady. "Where did she fit into all of this?"
He blew his breath out. "Annabelle was my most stupid mistake. A knee-jerk reaction born out of convenience. She was the daughter of a business associate and had been flirting with me quite heavily. I had no interest in muddying those waters and was more than content for it to just be us after…well, after Marguerite."
I was silent as I waited for him to speak. I didn't want to sidetrack him or cause him to stumble over his words.
His focus was trained on a spot over my shoulder. "You and I had been at a charity gala," he said. "I remember how you looked that night in a stunning strapless red dress. You were the belle of the ball, and I was quite proud to have you on my arm."
I knew which gala he meant. It was four months before Annabelle ambushed me in the lavatories.
"I'd been watching you from the edge of the dancefloor. A son of an old business friend cornered me to discuss his start-up, but all I could concentrate on was you dancing and laughing with some young fool. I was riddled with jealousy. Then, the person I was with laughed and said how they could tell how much I loved you just by how I was looking at you." His eyes were heavy with remorse as he recounted his sins. "It was like an ice bucket dumped on me."
A renewed anguish washed over me. Not only did I remember that gala, but I also recalled his behaviour later that night. He'd been cold with me, and instead of ravishing me like he promised to at the start of the night, he fobbed me off and spent most of the evening locked away in his study.
"When I went away for business, Annabelle happened to be there with her father—"
"You slept with her."
His brow knitted together, and his mouth trembled slightly at the sharpness of my tone. His hands tightened on me, refusing to let me go. "Yes. I also asked her to be my mistress and drew up a contract with a non-disclosure that she signed. But after that, I just…couldn't. I asked her to come to Manchester with me a few weeks before she confronted you. But she never left the hotel I booked her. I told her that something had come up and that I was cancelling my plans to see her. I didn't bother telling her that I wasn't planning on seeing her again at all, which, in hindsight, I should have. Then perhaps she would never have approached you."
I shook my head. "No. No, she still would have. I'm sure of it." I licked my dry lips, my stomach feeling hollow after his confession.
"But as odd as it sounds, I'm glad she did. Oh, I knew you had mistresses, but as long as I didn't see or know of them, then I didn't have to think about them. In fact, things were so good between us that I was sort of lulled into this false sense of comfort, that maybe our marriage was real, and you'd given them up." I gave him a sad smile.
"When Annabelle cornered me, it was as if the blinkers were ripped off my eyes. I was forced to confront the reality of our marriage, to know of your dalliances, and that they were very real and closer to home than I thought. The cracks started to widen, and that's when I realised I wasn't okay with any of it. That I wanted more out of my marriage than what my parents had."
"I'm sorry." His lips covered my face, peppering it with small kisses, his shaky breath dampening my skin. "I'm so sorry. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."
When he pulled back, my smile was tremulous as I pushed him away. "I should've just told you. I should've said that I wanted you to stop seeing other women. But I was scared you would say no, or worse, tell me yes to keep me sweet, but do it anyway behind my back."
"Is-is that why you started seeing him?" he asked, his tone missing the normal confidence and arrogance that I'd come to attribute to him.
Him. Archie. He meant Archie.
"No," I softly remarked. "It's not in my nature to have casual, unemotional sex with someone. I tried to be, but it's just not how my brain is wired. I have to spend time with them first, get to know them on a more intellectual and spiritual level. That's how I fell in love with you, and how I was able to sleep with you."
I took a deep breath as I prepared myself to ask about another Annabelle incident that had been bugging me.
"When you were in Edinburgh towards the end of last year, Annabelle approached me again when I was out shopping."
His eyes widened in surprise, and his tan face turned slightly pale. I searched his features for any sign of guilt or deception and came up empty. "What did she say? God, I'm sorry that she upset you, my love."
