“You idiot! It’s going to make you sound like some pussy-whipped loser who can’t tie his own shoes without his wife’s permission!”
“People can think what they want. Compared to losing my wife, it doesn’t seem that bad.”
Dad’s breathing grows loud and fast. “You will absolutelynotdecline this promotion! Not until you’ve given itat leastseventy-two hours of sober consideration.”
“But—”
“Non-negotiable, end of story, Ares!”
When Dad is like this, it’s impossible to reason with him. Not only that, he’ll turn Aunt Jeremiah and Grandmother against me if I push. “Fine. Seventy-two hours. But I’ll still think keeping my wife is more important than any promotion.” Then I hang up and send a quick text to Lareina before she does anything rash.
Chapter Forty-One
Lareina
I bury my face in my hands. How could I have blurted it out like that?I ruined everything.
The kitchen is empty. The passion Ares and I shared has long gone cold, and I shiver. Sudden exhaustion makes even the simplest movement seem like lifting a mountain. I just…
Finally, I sigh and force myself into action. I slide slowly off the counter, wipe the white goo off my belly with a paper towel and drop it into the trash.
My heart is heavier than lead. From the way Ares left, he’s probably not coming back tonight. I could’ve waited for a better time to spring it on him. It’s just that when he held me like I was the most important treasure in his life, “I love you” surged in my throat. But I just couldn’t say it, not when I knew this was the end of the marriage and he can’t quit thinking about the woman he calls Queen.
The kitchen is too fresh with our recent lovemaking. I trudge toward the garden to breathe in some fresh air and clear my mind, shedding pieces of my shattered heart along the way. Does it make me a totally shitty human being that I almost wish Ares didn’t get the promotion so I’d have a reason to stick around?
It’s ridiculous that I seem to be unable to just tell him what’s on my mind. I didn’t hesitate this badly when I was debating climbing over to Ares’s balcony in Vegas. There, failure meant death. The end. But at least I wouldn’t have had any pain orlingering regrets haunting me. But with Ares? I don’t want him to pity me or avoid me out of awkwardness or—worse yet—fear that I might try to cling to him like his ex. If I loved him a little less, I might’ve found the courage to confess my feelings.
I reach the garden and remember that stunning purple irises are blooming in the back. Maybe they’ll cheer me up a little.
The scent of the flowers tickles my nose, and I breathe in the earthy smell. The deep violet, even darker at night, somehow reminds me of a lullaby. When Ares returns, I’ll take a moment and explain to him why I chose divorce over staying together. He’s upset now, but he’ll understand that continuing this marriage wouldn’t be fair to either of us when he learns that Queen still haunts his dreams.
The irises to my right rustle. I turn, but see nothing in the shadows. The night lights seem a bit dimmer than usual. Did a bulb or two go bad? I make a mental note to look into it later.
My phone buzzes. I glance at the screen, my heart jumping to my throat.Ares.
–My Knight: There’s no promotion. The partners made a mistake.
What?
–Me: I’m so sorry. Are you okay?
Three dots appear on the screen. He must be devastated. Now I feel like a complete bitch for asking him for a divorce. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I have to take back what I said.
Yeah, but now you can stay married to him!
I shake my head at the shameless thought, consumed with guilt and self-recrimination. How can I be so selfish when Ares must be feeling absolutely crushed?
Besides, he might not want to stay together now anyway, since being with me didn’t get him the promotion he wanted. Hesaid “nice and respectable wife,” and I might not have fit that definition well enough to satisfy the firm.
The wait for the dots to turn into actual words seems interminable. I want to know what’s on his mind, but at the same time I prefer to bury my head in the sand and stay ignorant. What if the error has something to do with my suitability?
Finally, a new text pops up. I glance down at it, my attention wholly on the message.
But before I can finish reading, something pungent and nauseating covers my face. I can’t even hold my breath before the fumes permeate my nostrils and mouth.
Everything goes black.
* * *
