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She will be furious with me, and rightfully so. Or perhaps she is past the point of fury? With how I have treated her lately, she is likely resigned by now to what I am and how this marriage is destined to unfold.

Gabriel had every intention of supping with his wife this evening. When she saw him earlier, drinking tea with Lady Clarissa, crippling guilt had surged through his insides like he could not have expected. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, but it felt as if he was.

That told him everything that he needed to know, while confirming his worst fears.

He tried to deny it. He tried to fight it. He tried to lie to himself, admonish his feelings, refuse them as if they were an enemy to be beaten away. But the more he did, the clearer the truth became: Gabriel was falling for his wife.

“Ah, there it is. Finally.” Another tankard of ale landed before Gabriel, and he scooped it up and took a deep sip as if his life depended on doing so. “Much better.”

“I take it we are not going to talk about it?” Sommerton asked.

“Talk about what?”

“The reason you’re drinking like a man who is dying of thirst.”

“You are the one who invited me for a drink,” Gabriel snapped. “I am just doing as I was offered.”

“A drink, yes. Not all of the drinks…”

Sommerton was not known for his commiseration or sympathy. He was not a caring soul, the type who always put others first – his friends, especially. He was like Gabriel in many ways, which was why they had been friends since their time studying together at Eton. Two peas borne of the same pod and thus perfect companions in a world where so many spurned the way that Gabriel chose to live his life.

The fact that he was showing genuine concern for Gabriel was telling. At the very least it was enough to make Gabriel stop and consider why he felt the way that he did… the guilt, the way it made his insides twist so that he could hardly breathe.

I know why, and that is not the problem. The problem is that I feel guilty at all. Drinking will not fix it, but it might numb the guilt to a point where it no longer matters.

As things currently stood, it was the best that Gabriel could hope for. A most sad state of affairs indeed.

“It has been a long week,” Gabriel said darkly and he narrowed his eyes at is friend across the booth. “That is all. And if I feel the need to end the week with a few drinks, I would prefer to do it without being judged. Especially by you.”

“Is that what I am doing?” Sommerton folded his arms across his chest. “And here I am, showing concern for a dear friend who means to spit in my face in return. The last time I show you sympathy.”

“Ridiculous…”

“I do wonder…” Sommerton allowed the tiniest hint of a smirk across his rictus. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with your marriage, would it?”

Gabriel was halfway through another mouthful but the moment the nail was hammered right on its head, he choked and sputtered his drink all down his front. Then he punched his chest to clear his airways, while doing his best to ignore Sommerton’s probing stare and wicked smirk.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gabriel stammered and coughed. “You of all people should know how little my marriage means to me.”

“I thought that I did,” he said. “Now, I do not know what to believe.”

Gabriel put down his tankard and looked directly at Sommerton. He narrowed his eyes, sure that his next words would not be confused. “My marriage is not an issue. It is for appearances only, and convenience. My wife knows it, I know it, and we are as happy as can be.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said without missing a beat. “I am quite sure.”

It was a lie, and from the way his best friend eyed him with skepticism, there was no doubt that Sommerton saw right through it.

Gabriel’s words should have been truthful. The way this marriage had started, and what he expected from it, were exactly as he said.

Typically, as was the reason for Gabriel drinking as if it was his last night on earth, it was also nowhere near that simple.

Sophia was not the same woman who he married. Ironic, as that was the entire point. Gabriel, in his eagerness to see the marriage done, had failed to comprehend just how much his wife would change… and what said changed would do to him.

He had wanted to see the other side of her. He had wanted to lure those hidden emotions to the fore so that she would be free. Helikedthe idea of corrupting Sophia, changing her, twisting her sensibilities so that she would do as she wanted, and not what was expected.

And it was these changes that drew Gabriel to her like a moth to the flame. An apt metaphor, Gabriel thought, because of the danger inherent in both.