Page 9 of Carnal Wagers

“You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t let this stand.”

“I’ll make the best of it. With a little time, who knows? We might be the typical arranged-marriage couple you read about in romance novels.”

“That what you want?”

I swirled the rest of my wine and peered through the liquid. It tinted everything pink. The cement tiles, the square’s statue, the cars, the buildings, the sky, and the clouds. A perfect rendition of looking through rose-colored glasses. I snorted. So much for my naïve optimism.

“I don’t know. I’ve got my business to build and my degree to finish. Maybe this is for the best. I don’t have to move continents. It also means I don’t have to deal with an emotionally constipated man who can’t get over the woman he did love. And no popping out babies I’m not ready to handle.” I sat up. “Yes, you know what? This is actually the best thing to come out of today. I’ve done my part, paid my dues, and now I can be who and what I want, not what my family needs.”

“Good for you, babe. Stick it to them all.”

I raised a fist to the air. “Exactly. Yes.”

“But what about what comes after? You’re still married.”

“After?”

“You can’t expect to live separate lives forever.”

“That sounds horribly, terribly lonely. No.” I tossed my head from side to side, a pleasant tingle flushing my face. “Non, I do not want that.”

“Just don’t expect love, babe. People like him don’t really seem made for it.”

My parents’ relationship proved that wasn’t true, but I bit my tongue to avoid arguing with her.

“I’ll deal with it one day. Just not yet. Not today. Right now, I’m getting drunk and forgetting this day ever happened to begin with. Tomorrow, I push my life forward. On my own terms.”

Because there was no one left for me to please or disappoint, except myself. I was a married woman, and as far as my family was concerned, they didn’t need to know more than that. I was formally attached, yet blissfully not. This was a good thing. At least it would be, once I managed to drown this swirl of hurt blistering my insides with more wine.

For the first time in my life, I could focus on myself. Cillian O’Leary wanted nothing to do with me. Great, because the truth was, I didn’t want, need, or choose him. I chose myself. I chose the woman who had always been overlooked for her traumatized brothers. I chose the woman who bent over backward to learn six extra languages to be noticed and useful, only for it to be considered trivial. I chose the woman who grew up learning how to charm a roomful of businessmen to gain an advantage but wanted to be more than a pretty face wrapped in silk. And I chose the woman who was forced to manage her own anxiety and panic attacks growing up because her trauma was the lesser of evils compared to her siblings’.

So in a way, I owed Cillian O’Leary. He freed me from the constraints tying me down. His rejection allowed me to take flight and spread my wings.

I just never thought our wedding day was going to be the first and last time I’d talk to him for the next seven years.

Chapter 4

Year One of Marriage

Alizé

Hey, this is Alizé. Your wife.

We need to discuss holiday visits.

I get it, we live apart. No communication. I prefer it that way too.

But for family events like Christmas, how are we going to do this?

You come to France one year, I go to the States the next?

Cillian

No.

Alizé

Well, you’re just a ray of sunshine.