A knock came at the door, and I answered without looking up.
If it was Akim, it meant Inna was back from shopping. That meant it was closer to dinner with the governor’s family.
I checked my watch—four o’clock.
“Hi.”
I looked up when the voice came.
Malia stood in the doorway. She always carried herself the same way, like she rehearsed how to show up on my face. She was the woman men described as perfect without being able to explain what they meant. Her obedience felt more like grace rather than submission, always calm and smiling. She wore it so often, I stopped trying to tell whether it was genuine or simply load-bearing.
I paused the footage on my laptop. “What are you doing here?”
She walked in and stopped by my table. “May I sit?”
She always asked. I pointed toward the chair, and she settled into it, smoothing her satin dress. The neckline cut a V at her chest, and I caught myself comparing everything to Inna.
Malia was blonde, her hair thick enough to wrap a fist through at least twice. Every woman I ever took to bed had long hair. And then Inna walked in with her short hair and somehow made that feel like my only preference I didn’t know yet. That was the problem. I touched her and didn’t finish what I started. And my brain already appointed her as the reference point for everything.
The night after she offered herself to me, I ended up in my office and tortured myself with control. That only happened when you played games you designed yourself.
The only way through it was to fuck her out of my system and move on. That was how I played, and that would happen soon.
“I left home early to do something before dinner,” Malia said.
“In my office?” I asked, bringing myself back to the room.
She shifted. “No, no. I was meeting a friend nearby and finished earlier than expected. I thought we could go to dinner together.”
She wanted this wedding. Most people would, if it came with my name attached to it. She showed interest from the beginning, and she was good at it. Only that she didn’t know what this dinner was actually for.
“And you thought that was a good idea?” I pushed my chair back and stood.
“If it’s fine with you, yes.” She turned in her seat as I moved toward the liquor table. “How was the auction yesterday?”
I poured a measure of drink and looked out the window. Malia was still talking. I stopped absorbing it somewhere between the second sentence and the window.
The problem was Inna. Not in the way problems usually present themselves. It was more like her getting under your skin without announcing herself. In just a handful of days, she became more interesting than most people I know. She argued, schemed, and made sinful offers while still shaking. She was chaotic, wearing confidence, but scared on the inside.
Malia would never compare to her.
Speaking of Inna, she should have been back by now. She needed to get ready for dinner.
“Are you alright? You seem off today.”
I turned. Malia was already close to me. She was watching me with careful attention.
“Go ahead,” I said. “I’ll follow shortly.”
“We still have time.” She held my gaze for a moment, searching for my approval, but got none and nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you inan hour.”
She left the room.
My phone vibrated, and I pulled it out expecting Akim, but the screen read wife.
I looked at it for a second longer. She was supposed to be getting ready and doing whatever she was told. But seeing her call, that small fucking fact did something to my mood that I chose not to examine too carefully.
I answered. “Wife.” I took a sip from my glass.
