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‘Six months later was a little premature, yes,’ Shalini conceded.

I mulled over her words.

‘To some extent, Max was a rebound, but I also had strong feelings for him,’ I admitted. ‘I would never have married him if I’d still been in love with D at the time, because that would have been evil and morally wrong. I became dazzled by Max. Even before I met him, I watched a hella lot of Massimo in his foreign films and loved his dynamic performances. He was the reigning leading man of Italian cinema. I swooned when I got introduced to him while shooting a feature, right after he won his Oscar for The Venetian Shadow.’

‘Didn’t he whisk you away from some party after that?’

‘It was a few days later. We bumped into each other at a London shindig my editor at Panoramik Magazine hosted. Max pulled me away to a Kensington spot, where we stayed up all night talking. His charm blew me away; talk about sophistication down to an art.’

‘He became your exit strategy,’ Shalini muttered. ‘A shiny, safe landing pad.’

‘He was,’ I agreed, shrugging. ‘He had the calm and self-possession of a leading man; a classic, effortless, very George Clooney-esque vibe that I found appealing. He was what I needed then, or so I thought. He was the refined gentleman, unlike Deacon, the passionate, temperamental rock star.’

‘And in bed?’ Shalini asked, waggling her brows.

I inhaled. This was a touchy subject for me.

‘Max was a generous lover who cared about my satisfaction. There was just something missing. Passion, perhaps. A little more dominance. I’m not sure.’

‘So he was boring?’

‘Shalini!’ I chided her. ‘He was just different sexually. It’s not that he never made me cum; it’s just that he was more vanilla and less spice. Sex with him lacked the wild edge Deacon and I had. However, I convinced myself it was what I needed: a calm, steady, comfortable sex life.’

‘Fuck that. It seems you fashioned Max into a shield against your overwhelming emotions.’

I eyed her over the rim of my cup.

She was making far too much damn sense.

‘A shield isn’t a soulmate, Ana,’ Shalini went on, leaning forward. ‘Max was easy, and he kept your heart rate low so you wouldn’t experience the agony. But he also withheld the fire out of your life. What you need now is more flames and spice.’

I mulled over her words and took another sip of my drink.

‘True. I was with Max because he was easy. Deacon isn’t. He’s emotional, passionate, possessive, demanding, and freakin’ hot in bed. I walked away from him because I was scared of how much he drove me wild with emotion. Now, I want his passion and energy back, the jokes, the late-night talks, parenting Raff together, the amazing intimacy we had, and the intense sex. Hell, Deacon is still the only man who can make me melt with one touch.’

‘And there it is,’ Shalini declared.

‘However, Deacon wasn’t all roses, honey. I remember how impatient he became about Estella, minimizing my distress and making me feel like garbage for grieving,’ I added. ‘He’s since apologized, but I’m still a little wary.’

‘Deacon was drowning too, Ana,’ Shalini reminded me. ‘His impatience with your grief and his words were out of line, but they came from a guy lost in his own pain. Don’t use his worst moments as an excuse to avoid admitting you’d still take him back once you sorted through your Max shit.’

I rubbed my temples.

‘Maybe. But given our history, I don’t know whether it’ll happen.’

‘Your heart will guide you, woman, so give yourself time. What else is bothering you?’

I thought about her question for a beat.

‘I want more children. Max didn’t feel the same. What sucked was that he told me he never wanted them, but only after we got married. He said, ‘I’ve never wanted children, and I have zero desire to change my mind.’ This stunned me because he said he was open to having a family before we got hitched.’

Shalini scoffed, shaking her head.

‘A total bait-and-switch, a freakin’ deal-breaker.’

‘His hard pivot also added to the emotional distance between us,’ I continued. ‘Work took over for both of us too. He seemed busy, distracted, always on a clock. On paper, our life resembled a glossy magazine spread. I was never at ease in Massimo’s world of luxury shopping, high-end dinners, and art-house film circuits. I never felt seen or loved the way I did with Deacon.’

‘That’s because you bought into an aesthetic,’ Shalini mused. ‘Max’s designer-perfect life avoided drama, but it starved your soul. He gave you a curated brochure existence, yet what you craved was a messy, real family and untapped passion.’