IJOGGED IN THROUGHmy Fifth Avenue apartment's carousel doors and took the eight flights of stairs at a quick pace up to the penthouse suite. Opening the door, I glanced at the Fitbit Versa on my wrist. “Not bad.” I grabbed a bottled water from the refrigerator, unscrewed the cap, and quickly downed three quarters.
“Why haven’t you taken my calls?”
I lowered the bottle and cocked a brow at my wife. Smartly dressed as usual, even for a Sunday morning city drive, she took a seat at the breakfast counter and stared at me. She usually took time off a week or two before Christmas, returning to work in the new year. While she stayed at the apartment with me for work, she spent her holidays at my parent’s home in the country, acting like the proverbial rich man’s wife to her high-society friends.
“Anyimportantreason you’d be hounding me with calls at midnight?” I wasn’t expecting it to be. Her persistent calls typically meant she wanted something I wasn’t interested in entertaining. I hadn’t seen her for the last week, and her five missed calls already left me in a foul mood. Ignoring them meant Angela would get the picture that I wanted to be left alone. So much for that notion.
“I wanted to check on the necklace design for my aunt’s Christmas gift.”
I barked out a frustrated laugh. “Being my wife, Angela doesn’t give you liberties, and your aunt’s need isn’t a priority. If you haven’t noticed, it’s that time of the year when our designers are busy with sets for shows across the world, not to mention the individual requests from stores that pay us,” I snapped out the last part.
“We’re a multi-billionaire dollar company, surely—” she broke off at my icy glare. She was well aware of my limits.
I pulled off my wet tank and headed for the shower. Hoping she’d take the hint that this conversation was over, I swung around at her huffed-out sigh. She stood just inside my bedroom door, her gaze scanning my naked chest. It amused me that while she was a beautiful woman, her lack of participation in the bedroom had always left me wanting more. A touch beyond missionary, and she’d freak out like she was auditioning for a goddamn rape scene.
“Are you having an affair?”
“You might be my wife, but I owe you no fucking explanation.” My smile was cynical.
There was a long pause before she opened her mouth again. “I think it’s time we talked.”
“About?”
“About us.”
“What about us?”
“What do you mean, what about us?” she cried. “Drake, you haven’t returned your father’s calls about the Christmas Eve dinner, which is around the corner, and I can’t answer for you because I don’t know what your plans are. And what about your birthday? It’s in two days. I thought you might want to have dinner with me.” Her suggestion surprised me since she hadn’t taken any interest before. It was usually my kids who planned something. “Christ, Drake, can you honestly tell me that our marriage is fine? I mean, we hardly have sex. You don’t talk much to me about anything.”
“Your choice, Angela.” My brow shot up, reminding her that she’d chosen a particular lifestyle. “My father knows where I am. The dinner will still go ahead whether I’m there or not, so why the need to discuss it with me. He never does. As for my birthday, I have plans.” What. I had no idea, but time to myself beat company I didn’t want. I turned my back on her, staring out the window, wishing for calm.
“And yet you see no reason to tell me your plans? You’re my husband, Drake.”
Glancing over my shoulder at her, I shook my head. “Only when you need me to be.” I watched the changing expression on her face. Having done this battle a few times already, she knew I was right. She wanted me in name only, none of the responsibilities, and that had been going on for years now. Pacification was the mother of all my fuck ups.
“Don’t you love me anymore?” As usual, her blasé attitude took precedence.
“I don’t think I ever have.” I was done playing. Her outraged gasp told me what was coming. Another rant. I met her annoyed expression head on. “Look. I’ll admit we were both victims of circumstances, and I compromised.”
“Compromised? Did you feel anything for me, ever?”
I stretched my hands over my head then twisted from side to side. “I did.” I rolled my neck, eyeing her disgruntled features. She knew what was coming. I cocked a brow, and her expression hardened. “You have nothing I want. Not love, not happiness, not affection. We made a go at it for a long time, but this marriage is—”
“Not over,” she snapped.
“Run to daddy, Angela, as always? How long do you think you’ll be able to stick your claws in my father? He will tire one day, and you and your leverage isn’t going to work anymore.” I uttered a caustic laugh at her scowl. “You know what. I need a shower, and you’re right. I could do with a good fuck.” I walked away from her shocked scream, entered the bathroom, and locked the door behind me. I seriously couldn’t do this anymore. She might have my name, but now my cock had other ideas, and who was I to deny him. Only, I’d been out of the dating game for so long. God alone knew what I’d find outside these walls.
