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"Sebastian Zegers. Why do you ask?"
I grab a pen and jot down the name. "I want to make certain he can't hurt you again."
"Are you planning to exact vengeance on my behalf? That's adorable."
"Not vengeance." I click the pen to retract its tip. "I'd like to hire an investigator in America to check on this Sebastian man. Find out what he's been doing and determine whether he kept those photographs. If so, I will ensure they are destroyed. Permanently."
"Um, thanks. That's an amazing thing to do for your trophy wife."
I smack the pen down on the desktop. "Never call yourself a trophy again. You are my wife, full stop."
"And you are a truly awesome husband."
Though I grimace, I don't speak. Awesome? I've treated her like my chattel.
"My turn," she says. "What did Graham mean about your first wife having an iron constitution?"
Bloody hell. I cough and grimace again. "I'm not sure. Isobel wanted things I couldn't give her, left me because I was boring and—"
I flinch as I realize how much I've said. Too much.
"Is that why you keep telling me I'll get tired of you?" Emery asks.
All I can do is glare into the darkest corner of the room. "I met Isobel near the end of my traineeship, the final step in becoming a solicitor. I was twenty-five, she was twenty-three. We married six months later, and only after that did she start to complain about my work. She thought being a solicitor was dull and unglamorous, kept telling me I should at least become a corporate lawyer where I'd make more money. Isobel despised the fact I often worked pro bono for those who couldn't afford a solicitor's fees. When she walked out, she told me I would never find a woman who would tolerate the long hours I put into my work, the late-night calls from panicked clients, and what she called the 'pittance income' I earned."
"How long were you married to her?"
"Five years."
Neither of us speaks for a moment. She probably can't figure out what to say. Why had I told her about Isobel? She asked, and I…answered, without thinking.
"Thank you for telling me all of that," Emery says. "It couldn't have been easy to talk about."
"You are the first person I've told the whole truth."
"May I ask one more itty-bitty question? Not about your exes."
"Go on."
"What's the real reason you got irritated when I hugged Aidan?"
I slither off the desk and retreat behind it, dropping onto the chair. "It's ridiculous."
"I love ridiculous. You know that."
Ducking my head, I scratch my scalp. "You hugged everyone, even Gavin Douglas. You hugged Aidan twice. But you haven't hugged me today."
"Sure I have."
I shake my head slowly, feeling like a bloody eejit for confessing to her.
"I haven't?" When I shake my head again, she slides off the desk. "I can remedy that right this minute."
Before I realize her intent, she circles behind the desk and sits down on my lap. When she winds her arms around my neck, I stiffen. Then she rests her cheek on my shoulder.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"I upgraded your hug to a cuddle."
