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‘Followers?’
‘Yes, you know...social media?’
She’s on the defensive now. I can tell by her rigid posture, and her cheeks blazing as deep as her eyes.
‘You know—that internet thing that everyone uses.’
‘Not quite everyone.’
‘Well, not you, obviously.’ There’s a hint of disdain in her voice. ‘Far be it for you to lower yourself to the standard of the masses.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Nothing.’
‘It’s not nothing.’
Her chin is back at its defiant angle. ‘I made the mistake of forgetting who you are for a second.’
There’s something more than challenge in her eyes—something dangerous and taunting—and it runs deeper than this moment here and now.
‘Never mind all this talk of me being lonely—what happened to you?’ she fires at me. ‘Last I knew you were engaged to be married...quite the match, by all accounts.’
I should have expected it...but it hadn’t occurred to me that she would know, let alone raise it now.
‘That was a long time ago.’ Ten years, to be precise. ‘Did Gran tell you?’
‘No...’ She takes a sip of wine, visibly calming herself. ‘I got it from the press.’
‘You kept tabs on me?’
The colour reaching up her neck, deepening in her cheeks, is answer enough, and I shouldn’t feel the rush of satisfaction, or let the unbidden smile touch my lips.
‘What happened?’ she presses, avoiding my question.
‘My mother happened.’
‘She didn’t approve?’
‘Oh, no—she approved. More than approved. Behind the scenes she was one step ahead of me.’
Her eyes narrow with her confusion. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means Analise was handpicked by my mother. I think she figured that holding the puppet strings over my wife would ultimately keep her hold over me.’
‘You’re joking!’
She palms her chest as her wine catches in her throat. Far more disturbed than I am. But this is ancient history. I can talk about it without a shred of regret...unlike our situation.
‘Seriously, Edward!’
‘I am serious.’
She coughs. ‘But when did you—how did you find out?’
‘I came home early from a business trip. I wanted to surprise Analise...’ The slightest burn of humiliation reaches my cheeks as I remember that particular scene. ‘Instead, she surprised me.’
‘She did?’
