“We need to discuss—”
“I just found out you had a mistress, okay?”
The words cracked on the last syllable, and it was that...
It was that sound which made his own chest crack.
And his hand, already braced against the doorframe, slowly lowered.
“Alright.” His voice sounded strange to his own ears, but he could not for some reason explain why. “Tomorrow then.”
He didn’t say anything else.
But stood there a full minute.
Waiting for something. Anything. But eventually, he had to turn away and accept that he was waiting for nothing.
A heavy sensation settled in his chest as he forced himself to walk back to the living room.
His gaze strayed to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked a city he had conquered in every way that mattered.
But he saw none of it.
In his mind, all he could see was her.
His wife.
Lexina...from the eight years they had spent together.
And throughout it, she had always been smiling. Laughing. Or sleeping.
So why then?
Why did she still want a divorce?
Or was the reason something that was already in front of him—but had a hard time accepting?
Did she want a divorce...because she could not forgive him for having a mistress?
A mistress that he believed in full conscience she had given him permission to acquire.
A mistress he had already stopped visiting months before he had learned of her work at Aivan’s company...because of reasons he still refused to spend time deciphering.
It was one thing to give their marriage a real shot.
Another thing entirely to make their marriage something that was not based on logic and convenience.
****
Inside the guest room, Lexy had her back pressed against the locked door, one hand clamped over her mouth.
She could stillfeelhim out there.
And it hurt so, so much that she did.
He wanted them to keep talking.
Tomorrow even.
