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I had intended to purchase a gown for her. But this is the first time in recent memory where I have to be cautious on how I phrase what I’m about to say next. Never have I met a woman who would not readily agree to my purchasing her a designer gown.

But Alessandra will. How did I ever think her capable of manipulating our meeting in Santorini for financial gain? While her fierce independence will be an obstacle to my convincing her to forgo a divorce, it’s also something I’m coming to admire about her.

“I’d like to offer you a gift.”

She looks at me, her face carefully blank. “Oh?”

“A dress of your choosing. But,” I add before she can say anything, “I want to offer it as a gift, not a requirement. Not an order. If you decline, and nothing here meets with your approval, there are several boutiques in Santorini we can visit this afternoon before the gala.”

It’s a concession, one I don’t like making. I take care of the people in my life. Her refusal to accept the money wasn’t just obstinance. It felt like a rejection of me and what I have to offer, another setback in our relationship.

But as the plane flew through the night sky, my anger abated enough for me to revisit her words. To accept that she had, in fact, conceded a great deal. It had only been two weeks since I found out I was going to be a father. The same two weeks in which Alessandra left behind a job she was passionate about, moved out of her apartment and accepted a proposal from a man she had initially thought would shirk his responsibility as a parent.

I don’t like that she’s still fighting me at every turn. But I have to remind myself I will not win by pushing her too hard and too fast. If I want her to treat me as an equal when it comes to parenting, I need to offer her the same when it comes to everyday life.

“Why?”

No one I’ve dated before has ever asked that. They’ve just taken what I’ve offered. And what I’ve offered has always been material goods, things that couldn’t tie me down to one person. But as I think over her question, I’m surprised by my own answer.

“Because I want to. I know that while you were very successful in your career, you live frugally.”

I think back to our wedding day, the way she would run her hand over the lace of her wedding dress when she thought no one was looking. Watching her fingers stroke over the material, imagining peeling the gown away before I laid her down on my bed, made my cock so hard I had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

“You enjoy the finer things in life. You either haven’t had the opportunity, or haven’t given yourself the opportunity, to experience them. I’d like to give you this.”

She stares at me for what feels like an eternity. Her eyes are probing, assessing.

Then, slowly, she dips her head. “I’ll consider it.” Her gaze narrows when the corner of my mouth tilts up into a smirk. “I didn’t say yes.”

“But you didn’t say no.”

Before she can argue, Lucas comes back. “My apologies, but if we only have an hour, I would like to get Mrs. Sullivan into the dressing room as quickly as possible.”

When Alessandra nods, a knot loosens in my chest.

Lucas claps his hands and two women appear out of the maze of dresses. One is tall and willowy thin with dark skin that gleams against the contrasting pale lavender of her dress. The other has silver hair that falls in billowing waves to frame a round, wrinkled face.

“Yvette and Agatha, two of my most trusted associates. Ladies, Mrs. Sullivan is shopping for a gown for the International Children’s Charity gala tonight. Please, take good care of her.”

The older lady comes forward with a beaming smile and open arms.

“What sort of dress are you thinking?”

Alessandra returns the smile with an amused one of her own. “I’m honestly not sure. I’ve passed by the window of the Kallos Boutique in New York many times and always been impressed by what I’ve seen. It’ll be hard to choose.”

“Then with your permission, we will bring a few selections to you and start from there.”

The taller associate places a gentle hand at Alessandra’s elbow and guides her forward. The women disappear into a sea of silk and chiffon.

“Your wife is very gracious.”

Lucas’s observation makes me pause. “She is.”

Kindness has never been a trait I’ve focused on in previous paramours. Why would it matter when the end goal was mutualpleasure with an expiration date? But as I think back to how she thanked the medic in the ambulance, how she interacted with the nurses in the hospital and whatever transpired between her and my mother before the wedding brought such a huge smile of joy to my mother’s face, I’m struck by this unexpected side of her. Unexpected because I focused almost exclusively on those few fraught minutes in her office during the will reading where she treated me with cool professionalism.

“Please feel free to browse and select anything else you might wish to gift your wife with on your honeymoon.”

I shake my head. “You’ve got that sales pitch down pat.”