38. Cian
Cian
“ I want to get a job,” Ravenna announces a couple weeks after we return to New York from Italy. Her words take me completely by surprise. For a long moment, I stare at where she hovers in my office entrance.
“Why do you want a job? We don’t need money, you don’t have to work.” I’m confused. Don’t I provide enough for her? Isn’t she happy with what she has? If she wants a job, then I must have somehow failed her. Is she not happy with me?
“I know. And honestly, I feel a little bad potentially taking a paying job away from someone who needs it. But I’ll donate everything I make to charity.
I’m going stir crazy. I need some kind of routine, structure to my life.
I’m not involved in your business and I don’t want to be.
I want to do something normal—and legal. ”
I frown at her, not understanding where this is suddenly coming from. “What type of job do you want?”
“Well, I’m not qualified for much. Most of the things I’ve looked into require at least some college education, but I talked with Aunt Rosa and she has a friend of a friend who is looking to fill a simple secretary position at a modeling agency.
It’s nothing glamorous. I’d mostly be getting coffee, running errands, and doing other odds and ends until I’ve proven I can take on more responsibility.
That’s if I can even get the job. I have an interview on Wednesday. ”
I lean back in my chair, arms folded. “You’ve been busy, haven’t you?”
She flushes a pretty pink beneath her tan. “I wanted to have a potential plan in place before talking with you about it. So you know that I’m actually serious, and this isn’t a whim.”
“Oh, I take you very seriously, broc meala , you should know that by now. It seems like this has been on your mind for a while.” I study her.
“Sort of. I really came up with the idea when we were in Italy. But I’ve been feeling restless for months.”
Standing up, I go to her and cup her cheek. “All I ever want is for you to be happy. If you think this job will make you happier, then do it. I’ll give you anything this world has to offer, as long as it’s in my power to do so. But if you ever feel like I’m letting you down, say so.”
“You’ve never let me down,” she says sweetly.
We both know that’s not entirely true. I let her down when I abandoned her at her parents’ house.
And now I’m afraid I’m letting her down by not giving her a child.
I need to get myself checked by the doctor, though I’m dreading that, so I keep delaying.
What if all of my fears are confirmed? What if I’m infertile?
My darling wife could drift into the arms of another man, one who can give her the family she desires.
Which would be my fault, since I can’t fulfill her needs.
She thinks I’m unaware of it, but I’ve seen the yearning in her gaze when she sees a child.
The way she slows down when we walk past the room that’s reserved for a future nursery.
Not having a family is slowly killing her inside.
If she finds another man, I’ll have no one to blame but myself.
Then I’d have to kill that man. But doing so would destroy Ravenna. Her being with another man would destroy me.
Sometimes I feel like our nearly perfect marriage teeters on the brink of disaster. If I talk with the doctor and they confirm that I’m infertile, what will that do to us? Will that be the beginning of the end?
I try to push away my negative thoughts. Worries and fears won’t fix anything. Besides, I should have more faith in my wife, and in us , but I’m not perfect. Far from it.
Gently kissing Ravenna, I ask, “What’s the name of the agency?”
“Bane Modeling Management.”
I grunt in amusement. “I see. Are you sure you don’t want to find work that has something to do with your interest in history?”
She wrinkles her nose. “No. History is my escape, I read it to relax. I’d never want to work in that field.”
“Very well. If this job is what you really want, I can deliver it to you on a silver platter. You don’t need to ask your aunt for this favor.”
“Oh? How?” Her beautiful face brightens with intrigue.
“One of my cousins owns that agency. I’ll talk with him. He’ll make sure you get the job.”
Her eyes light up with so much hope that my heart skips a beat. I love making this woman happy.
Years ago, I thought I loved my ex-fiancée, Fiona, but any feelings I had for her pale in comparison to how I adore Ravenna. This is love. True love.
I just hope it’s enough to keep us together through the hard times. Every marriage has some difficult ones, right?
C onnor Bane, my cousin, made good on his promise to get Ravenna hired. When I told her the news last night, she jumped on me, which led to some very enthusiastic sex. If I’d known a regular, minimum wage job would make her this excited, I’d have suggested the idea myself.
Rinsing my hair under the shower’s scalding spray, an image of my wife in the pencil skirt she bought for this job appears vividly in my mind.
Today she’s heading into work for her first day.
Even though she’ll be out of the house for hours, I want her thinking of me.
I can’t wait to find my wife, lift up that tight skirt, and pump her full of cum.
I’m not going to let her clean up afterwards so that my cum coats her thighs all day long. My cock hardens at the thought.
I shut off the water. Wrapping a towel around my hips, I go in search of Ravenna. She should be in her dressing room getting ready.
Sure enough, her door’s ajar. I peek through the opening, not yet alerting her to my presence. She’s wearing a blue blouse with a black skirt that hugs every curve. Her hair’s pulled up into a bun, pinned in place. Her legs look a mile long in those high heels.
As if she has a sixth sense, her gaze snaps to mine in the full length mirror. She smiles, invitingly.
I push open the door. Immediately I’m hit with the scent of vanilla and ylang-ylang.
My head spins, dark spots appear before my eyes, and I can’t breathe. I’m drowning in that cloying odor. An invisible enemy strangles me as I struggle to remain conscious. My knees give out, hitting the soft carpet.
“You have no idea how easy it was to lead you on, Cian. How pathetic you looked, always doting on me, saying you loved me.” Fiona’s unique perfume wafts into my bruised and bloody face. Vanilla and florals.
“Remember that first time when I was supposed to be visiting my parents in Ireland? I was actually at a cabin with your brother. While you told me how much you missed me on the phone, I was screwing the hell out of Shawn. You’re pathetic. No woman will ever take you seriously, much less love you.”
“Cian! Cian! Can you hear me?”
I suck in a harsh breath. My vision clears, but I cringe at the scent. Ravenna’s in front of me, holding my face between her hands, worry mars her beautiful features.
“I’ll be okay,” I murmur, trying to sound reassuring, but my voice comes out strained.
“What happened? One moment you seemed fine and the next you collapsed. I’ll get the doctor?—”
“No.” I hold her wrists, and climb to my feet. “I don’t need a doctor. It was a… one of those attacks.”
Her brow furrows even more. “A panic attack? What set it off?”
I deeply inhale, instantly regretting it. Trying to calm my pounding heart, I say, “Your perfume. It’s new. Where did you get it?”
“My perfume? It’s not new, I found it in a drawer. I don’t remember buying it, but I thought today?—”
“It’s her perfume. Her signature scent that she always wore. Ylang-ylang with vanilla.”
“Her… as in your ex ? Fiona?”
All I can do is nod, my teeth clenched against the offending smell.
She hugs me, her cheek pressed to my bare chest. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll shower and throw that scent away. I don’t even know where it came from.”
“Don’t. You’ll be late for work.”
“I have a minute. I’m not spending my day wearing her perfume.” Opening her dressing room window to try to air the room out, Ravenna hastily goes into the bathroom.
Feeling like I’ve been gut punched, I sink into her vanity chair. The fresh air helps clear my head further.
What are the chances of Ravenna purchasing the exact same scent that Fiona wore? If she even did buy it.
Is my ex haunting me from the grave? Why now?