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"It was—I don't know." I turn my face into her hand. "That will never happen again."
Does she believe me? Perhaps she shouldn't. I might hurt her again before I realize what I've done.
I move her hand to my chest, resting it over my heart, and settle my hand on top of hers.
"Listen," she says, "what you said really hurt me. I can't pretend it didn't, but I also realize this might be partly my fault."
"It isn't. I'm to blame."
"Let's call it ninety-ten, with you being ninety percent in the wrong." She hesitates as if she's considering how to proceed. "I never told you the real reason I married you. It's—"
My mobile rings. I dig it out of my hip pocket and sit up, relinquishing her hand while I answer the call with a gruff hello.
"It's Mike Jeffries, Mr. MacTaggart."
Emery sits up too, squinting into the sunlight beyond the arbor.
"Hate to bother you," Jeffries says, "but the search has taken longer than expected. This guy doesn't have much of a digital footprint anymore, which means I needed to bring in some of my associates to look for him the old-fashioned way. I think we've almost got him. But this means more expenses because he's now in Alaska, apparently hiding out in Anchorage. I'll need to fly there. Are you okay with that?"
"Yes, whatever you need. I'll pay any added expense. Let me know as soon as you find him."
Without another word, I end the call. Donnae give a shit about the money. I want to know what my wife had been about to tell me before my mobile rang.
"Everything okay?" Emery asks.
"The investigator thinks he's found Sebastian Zegers. He needs to fly to Alaska. Your former love seems to be hiding in Anchorage."
"Alaska? Sebastian hates the cold."
"He's been in and out of psychiatric facilities for years, Emery. You don't know him anymore." I pull her into my arms, pressing my cheek to hers. "I want to fix this for you."
"I'm okay, even if you don't find Sebastian."
"But you worry the photos are still out there." I clasp her a wee bit tighter. "What he did has affected you more than you believe. I think it's why sleeping in separate bedrooms makes you feel like a concubine. I should've realized sooner."
But naturally, I only realized that a moment ago. I'm an eejit.
I brush my nose against hers. "I have a call with a client, but I will see you for dinner. Won't I?"
"You will." She kisses me. "Don't work too hard."
We stroll back into the house hand in hand, kissing each other goodbye in the vestibule.
As I turn to leave, I find myself hesitating, needing to say something. "For the record, I don't pay you to fuck me. I'm paying you not to leave."
I take two steps toward the stairs, but stop when she calls out to me.
"Rory."
My shoulders tense up as I glance back at her.
"I was trying to tell you earlier," she says, "before your investigator called. I didn't marry you for money or sex."
"You did it for the adventure and excitement."
"Partly."
Gazing into her eyes, I suddenly understand. "You were lonely."
