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“No.” I lift my chin.
“Not once?”
I clear my throat. “Not once.”
He is close enough that his breath brushes over my face. “Were you a virgin when you were married?”
I scowl. “Of course,” I snap. “I’m not an idiot. I know the way of the family.”
His nostrils flare. “Did you keep a lover?”
“What?”
“A lover. Did you keep a lover throughout your marriage?”
“I would never. I was loyal. I was faithful.”
His hands cover his face, and he groans. “Tell me that when Charles died, you let loose? You found a man and let him… tell me.”
I turn away, afraid to answer.
“Holy fucking shit,” he whispers, more to himself than anyone else. “You let me…”
I keep quiet.
“You let me…” He grabs my wineglass before I sense he’s moved and throws it against the closest wall. Red wine coats the soft gray of the kitchen tiles. “You let me…”
“Shove your dick into my ass before I’d felt one in my vagina? You’re one hundred percent right, Diego. I did let you do that. You were in your head. You didn’t want to listen. I tried to tell you.”
“You should’ve tried harder. You should’ve fucking told me!” he yells.
“Jesus, Diego. Calm down. You didn’t pin me down and shove your cock into my ass without preparation. You made me feel good. You pleasured me. Does it matter if it was my ass or my cunt?”
“I can’t believe this. Youkeeplying. You’re a liar.”
Guilt washes over his face, and I can’t stomach looking at him long enough for it to morph into regret. I push past him.
“There’s your fine print to an annulment.” I stop myself from running. “Does consummating your marriage stipulate whether the fucking requires pussy penetration, dear husband? Or does an ass suffice?”
“What?”
“You never wanted this marriage,” I concede. “Now you have the ammunition you need to end it. Salvatore can once again sell me off to the highest bidder. I’m an anomaly. A thirty-five-year-old virgin. Do you think that is as coveted as an eighteen-year-old virgin?”
“You should have told me,” he repeats, quietly this time, regret leaking into his words and making my gut churn. I can’t stomach repentance, not when it revolves around an intimacy we shared thatmeantsomething to me. I thought it meant something to him, too.
“And humiliate myself further?” I question. “My first husband couldn’t fuck me, and now my second one doesn’t want to. I’m already a pariah because of the position I hold in the family. Men think they could do my job better. Imagine when they find out I can’t even tempt a man to take my virginity.”
I storm away, and he lets me.
Thoughts and feelings collide in my gut, making me want to vomit. I knew he’d find out sooner or later since it's not something you can exactlyhide. But I imagined coming clean on my own terms, talking it through like adults, and having the opportunity to explain what my marriage to Charles was really like. Diego believed my late husband charmed me with hearts and flowers. Gosh, he couldn’t be further from the truth. Charles and I were friends. He’d shower affection upon me in public but only to keep up appearances. At home, he offered me the one thing I never wanted in a marriage—platonic love.
I didn’t even realize I was looking at my wedding dress, caressing my fingers over the delicate material, and contemplating yet another one of my diabolical mistakes until I hear Diego’s voice behind me.
“Will you put it on?”
I glance over my shoulder.
He’s leaning against the doorframe, watching me with a look I can’t decipher.
