Chapter Fifteen
Sophie
Iwas very relieved to see my husband this afternoon. Lily’s reaction said it all; we’ve both missed him for the last few days while he was in Dubai, and for the few days before his departure. He put on a great show, but he and I both know our marriage is showing significant fissures.
Carlo does his best to break any residual tension between us, but sex won’t fix this. That’s what got us into this mess.
Once I’ve been the perfect hostess and introduced Spencer to our guests, I sneak away under the guise of fixing Lily’s cake.
Spencer’s talking to my single girlfriend, Zoe, and with each step I take toward the house, her shrill flirtatious laughter tightens the knots in my stomach further.
Within five minutes of closing the door behind me, Carlo enters, bringing with him several empty plates of food.
“He’s just being polite, Bella,” he reassures me.
I turn, pasting a smile on my face, and nod, hoping to disguise my jealousy. A waste of effort with this man; he’s too astute.
“He’s not interested in ‘Little Miss Desperate’, and deep down you’re aware of that.”
His words are more forceful this time. I glance out of the window to see Spencer taking a step back from her, almost as if he’s repelled.
“To be honest, she’d be a great person to punish him with, though. She’s intolerable. If Spence hadn’t turned up, I was considering feigning serious injury just to get away from her,” he teases, trying to make me smile.
An idea takes root in my mind.
Before I get the chance to share it, Spencer enters the house with a distinct look of concern plastered across his face.
“Jesus, fuck. Don’t leave me out there with them. Some of those women are savages.”
I shoot a look at Carlo, silencing him.
“You don’t like my friend?” I ask with a regretful tone. “That’s a shame; I’ve invited her for a bit of adult playtime later. I thought she was just your type. She’s really into you.”
Carlo and I both keep a straight face long enough for Spencer to respond.
“Pah, I’d rather stick my dick into an electrical socket!”
We both laugh.
“Judging by her desperation, I reckon you might get a similar effect,” Carlo says. “I bet nobody has been near her for years.”
I swat his arm with the back of my hand. Just because I don’t particularly like Zoe doesn’t mean I’ll allow him to be rude about her.
“I’ll have you know her husband left only six months ago.”
Carlo opens his mouth to respond, but his eyes flick to Spencer and he thinks better of it, though I’m pretty sure we all knew what he was planning to say.
I busy myself with the cake box, keeping my head down.
“It’s your turn to deal with the leech. I’ll come and rescue you with a major plumbing emergency in a moment,” Spencer tells Carlo.
“Ugh, you’ve got to be kidding,” Carlo groans.
I grin to myself; it’s amusing that they’ve picked up on her desperation too.
“Go on, fuck off,” he teases.
Carlo moves slowly toward the door, mumbling to himself.
As he slides the door closed, the atmosphere in the room changes. It’s no longer playful but has become charged and slightly uncomfortable.
“You look beautiful,” Spencer’s voice rolls around me.
I glance coyly over my shoulder with a smile, pleased with myself for making an extra effort this morning. For my plan to work, I need him eating out of the palm of my hand.
“You look tired. Did you enjoy yourself last night?” I ask with an arched brow; I hope to show him I’m not angry about his time with Carlo.
The clip of his heels as he stalks toward me fills the room, and I wait for him to touch me, but he doesn’t.
Instead he stands a foot away, leaning his hands on either side of the counter in front of me.
“Turn around, Sophie.” The seriousness of his voice is troubling. My heart sinks. Is this it? Is he going to tell me he can’t do this anymore?
“Can we do this later?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even. “I need to set up her cake and take it out to her. Soon after that, everyone will start leaving.”
He falls silent but doesn’t move; I’m aware he’s waiting for me to comply.
Once I’ve pushed the last candle into the cake, and I have no other excuses, I turn, glancing down at his chest.
“Please look at me, Sophie,” he pleads.
I lift my chin, and he takes a moment to search my eyes, as if looking for answers to questions he hasn’t asked yet.
“I love you, and don’t want to spend my life with anyone else.” The lump that’s forming in my throat burns. “I’m so fucking confused about so many things, Soph, but one thing has never changed. I will always want you and our daughter.”
Unsure about what I’m supposed to say, I bob my head.
“We need to talk properly, and now isn’t the time, but please never think this is any reflection of you. It absolutely isn’t.”
I chew the inside of my lip where there’s historical scar tissue from the same repeating habit. He doesn’t speak, and I’m sure he’s waiting for me to say something.
“You’ve met someone else though, haven’t you?”
His eyes flit between mine again.
“I’ve been seeing the same person regularly for the last four months in a sex club.”
His confirmation steals my breath. I stare at him, a tight fist of nerves gripping my stomach, as I wait to hear what else he’s going to say.
“We rarely have sex, but she performs for me with other men and women. I think I’m enjoying the dominance of the scene.”
“Do you love her?” I ask, sounding more confident than I feel.
“No.”
He glances away, and his gesture brings on a wave of nausea. I suspect he’s not telling the full truth, but then he surprises me. He hasn’t finished.
“I thought I was falling for her . . . I wasn’t.
It’s hard to explain this to you; I’m still trying to work it all through in my own mind.
She’s uninhibited and learned to play right into all my kinks.
Her technique was like a breath of fresh air because she distracted me from some of the demons I’ve been running from.
She did something you couldn’t, because whenever I look at you I see Carlo.
The way I feel about you, or even Carlo, is completely different. ”
I nod. Years of being with a man like Spencer helps me to understand his response. He’s always looked for reassurance. This strange power trip plays straight into all his insecurities.
With courage, I ask, “Do you intend to give her up?”
“Yes.” His answer is immediate. He straightens. “She’s not good for me.” A pause, then, softer, “She’s not a bad person. She’s young, carefree, very spoiled, with no real responsibilities. To her it was all a game. But for me . . . being with her pulls me further from the life I want. From us.”
“Thank you for telling me,” I reply.
My heart aches. I long to feel his arms around me. I’m reassured a little by his honesty, but I’m still experiencing a grinding sense of loss.
I push myself away from the counter, intending to collect plates and napkins for the cake, but his hand clasps me, cupping my jaw. I lean into his palm, enjoying the contact.
“Come here,” he murmurs.
Stepping into him, he holds me tight against him.
“Sophie, I’m sorry. Really fucking sorry.”
I stifle a sob. “Just promise me you’re coming back,” I plead, my voice weak.
He pushes me back from him, looking straight into my eyes.
“I don’t deserve you, Soph. I promise you I’m coming back, and I will try my darndest to change.”
Keeping quiet, I drop my gaze to the button on the front of his shirt and bob my head. I’d love to be excited by his admission, but sadly, this has gone on too long for me to believe him yet.