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“Says who?” I say irritably
“You’re not even denying it, so I know it’s true.” she says, folding her arms in anger.
“So what if I am? Do you really think I am going to be living like a monk because my wife is a compulsive liar?” I say, taking savage pleasure in her jealousy. “You never took those vows seriously, so why should I?”
“Yeah, like when you accused me of trying to have you killed?”
“I still don’t know you didn’t,” I mutter.
“If you think that, then you’re stupider than you look. I lied about my past, but I never lied about how I felt about you. I wanted a clean slate.”she says, holding up her wrist.
“When did you do that?” I say, looking at her ink-free wrist.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she says, disappearing into the en-suite bathroom and slamming the door.
“Sophia.” I knock on the bathroom door.
“Get out,” she shouts back to me, her voice thick with emotion.
“You got it removed?” I say talking to the door. “Sophia?” I knock again but this time she yanks open the door and the force almost knocks me over.
“What do you want, Rocco?”
“Why did you get it removed?” I say apprehensively.
“It was going to be my Christmas present for you, Happy Christmas,” she says sarcastically, as she sits herself on the bed and crosses her legs like a small child. “What else was I going to get for the man who already has everything?” She sighs. “I wanted to show you that I was committed to you, that the past was in the past. You’re right. I was never going to tell you about Anton because I knew it would change everything, and you would look at me pretty much the way you have been looking at me since that day in Brooklyn. Like I’m tainted, contaminated, or whatever you want to call it. This doesn’t change anything, does it?” she asks, looking at me wishfully.
“It’s hard to see you as mine when I know you belonged to someone else before,” I say slowly.
“I could say the same for you and the thousands of women you’ve been with.”
“But none of them had my heart,” I say as I leave the room.
I sit outside in the gardens for hours, despite it being beyond freezing I don’t feel a thing. The ice sculptures stare down at me ceremoniously as I start to unpack every thought in my mind. The tattoo is gone but the betrayal remains and every time I see her it is like picking a painful scab that never seems to heal. Do I really believe that Sophia is involved with the Russians, or is it just paranoia and rage banding together to find ways to not forgive her? The war with the Russians has been the only thing I can focus on in Sophia’s absence, Artem’s destruction will be my only absolution.
I haven’t thought about another woman for months, and my sex drive has been blown out like a candle. Of course, women offer themselves to me on the plate, but I just don’t have the same voracious appetite I used to. Hours later, I walk up the stairs and stop outside the room. Do I even have the self-control to stay away from the one thing I hate to admit I want most? The room is dark, and Sophia is huddled to one side of the bed. I can just get undressed and go to sleep,canbeing the operative word.
“Sophia,” I say kissing her shoulder blade.
“What are you doing?” She says, her body shivering at my touch.
“I don’t know,” I say, pausing. “I knew I couldn’t share a bed with you and not touch you.”
“We shouldn’t do this, Rocco,” she says as she pulls back slightly though I can feel her heart racing.
“I just need you one last time, Sophia,” I murmur.
“Why?” she asks, but I can’t find the words to explain myself.
My hand slowly moves up her silky body as I pull herchemiseoff, my body reaching around to touch her soft breasts. My lips find her neck as I deeply inhale her sweet scent, her nipples becoming erect in my fingers as my thumbs circle them. I move down, sliding my fingers through her legs until I feel her clench tightly as I enter her.
“Jesus,” she whispers hoarsely.
“Not quite,” I say almost smirking.
It’s an old joke between us; the memory feeling like a knife to my chest, though I would never admit it. It’s easier this way in the dark without having to look at her face, because, unfortunately, I think right now, she could see through every wall I fortified against her.
“You missed me?” I ask, feeling her wetness saturate my fingers.
