We walk up the stairs to the hotel entrance together, holding hands.
The hotel doors open, music spilling out, mixed with chatter and the clink of glasses.
“Here we go,” I mutter.
“Here we go,” she echoes, quieter, and I squeeze her hand, just once, to remind her she’s not alone. She’s with me.
She’smine.
The event space is filled with people I don’t recognize, but then I hear someone say, Alexei,” and I turn to see Liza, radiant in a pale blue dress, her hair swept up, her face lit with genuine warmth. “You made it.”
“I didn’t know I had an option not to,” I say.
“You didn’t,” Danyl says, walking up behind Liza.
Her smile widens, and she leans into him. “You promised to behave tonight.”
Danyl just shrugs, but Liza’s already moved on to greetRoza. “You look perfect,” she says. “That dress was definitely the right choice.”
Rozablushes, the color rising up her neck. “Thank you,” she says. “You’re the one who picked it out.” I silently wonder if my boss’s wife also picked up the underwear I ruined earlier this evening. It’s kinky enough to where I definitely want to ask my wife about it later.
“You’re going to steal the show,” Liza says, and then she notices the way Rosie’s hand is still in mine, the way my thumb is brushing the back of her knuckles. She quirks an eyebrow and smiles at me. “You clean up well, too, Alexei. Take care of my girl, tonight, alright.”
“I’ll take care ofmy wife.” I growl, making both Liza and Danyl laugh before they move off to greet more guests.
We move through the room,Rozaat my side. She’s nervous, but nobody but me can tell. She’s talking to strangers like a public relations pro, highlighting the rescue agency’s successes, succinctly arguing the need for more funding so that it can expand.
I watch her talk to a woman in a dark green dress, her hands gesturing, her eyes alive. I love the way she really listens to people, the way she leans in when someone shares something with her focus at a hundred percent because she’s genuinely interested in what they have to say. She’s good at this.
“You’re proud of her,” someone says behind me, and I turn to see Danyl, standing with a glass of whiskey in his hand, his eyes onRozawith the same assessing look he gives a chessboard.
“I am,” I say, keeping my eyes on my wife. She’s laughing at something the woman told her, and the sound cracks something open in my chest.
“And you look happy.” Danyl sips his drink, the ice clinking. “You’re not supposed to be happy. You’re supposed to be useful. But you’re smiling. And your wife looks…not scared.”
“I never want her scared,” I say quietly. “I want her happy.”
He looks at me, thoughtful. “You’re in love with her,” he says. I don’t answer. I can’t.
I haven’t admitted what this feeling is to myself yet. This feeling of wonder and peace that I get when I watch my wife being happy.
“Is this going to complicate things?” Danyl asks.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” I say.
“You have to, eventually.” He steps closer. “Everyone close to us is a liability. Especially when we’re emotionally involved.” His gaze tracks his own wife walking through the crowd to join the group aroundRoza.
Liza says something that makes my wife laugh, and she turns toward me, her smile widening when our eyes meet. The warmth in my chest spreads.
I’m not ready to name this feeling, yet, not even quietly in my mind. But deep down, I already know what it is, and it scares me more than anything.
What if my wife doesn’t feel the same? What if she’s still wishing for a way out of the contract?
The event is over.We’ve said our goodbyes to Liza and Danyl, the latter giving me long, knowing looks, which I ignored. As the hotel doors close behind us, the city air hits my face, cold and damp. But I still feel warm, walking with my beautiful wife, her hand in mine as we approach the town car.
Rozalooks beautiful. She looks happy. She looks like mine.
I'm already thinking about getting her home, getting that dress off her, making her moan my name as I pound inside her, claiming her.
