7. Delilah
CHAPTER 7
Delilah
I hummed a little tune to myself as I walked down to the dining room. I had slept like a baby and awoke refreshed and ready to plan my new life. Not as the Queen.
The dining room was light and bright and open, and looked out over the extensive palace grounds, with a great view of the lush forests and lakes surrounding us. The staff was busy preparing my breakfast but no one else was around.
I was displeased to see the table absolutely sagging with the amount of flowers on it—dozens of lush multicolored bouquets freshly cut from the palace gardens, and expensive luxury bouquets dripping with gems from the florists.
I grabbed at the big square card that sat by my usual place at the table and ripped it open to see Alexander’s strong, bold writing.
Sorry, that was stupid of me
It won’t happen again
I love you
A
I rolled my eyes and ripped it into little pieces over my husband’s plate. I did not believe a word of it.
Then I rung the bell and asked the attendant to take the flowers to the retirement home down in the nearby town.
It looked much better with them gone, and I opened my laptop and began to make a list for what I’d need to do to move out.
The flowers had only been gone for a few minutes when my husband walked in.
Alexander looked like he had freshly showered, and he was dressed in navy slacks and a crisp white polo shirt. At one point, the sight of the shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, the strength of his body tapered down to that narrow perfect waist, would have made me swoon internally, but now I barely gave him a glance, occupied with figuring out which moving company to go with.
“Good morning, Delilah,” he said, his voice a low rumble.
I ignored him.
“What are you doing?” he asked, sitting at the seat right across from me.
I took a sip of my coffee.
Now I would definitely miss the coffee. Full-bodied, perfectly balanced, with a perfect amount of cinnamon spice cream the kitchen staff made themselves.
“Just researching different moving companies,” I said.
“Not this again!” Alexander said in a clipped voice. “Stop joking Delilah, it’s not funny anymore.”
“It’s not a joke,” I said with my mouth full of a perfectly-done egg. “I’m out of here in a month.”
God, I was so happy I didn’t have to worry about eating like a lady around him anymore, and I barely spared his tight jaw and grimace a glance.
Maurice came out of the kitchen to bring me my breakfast of delicate, savory crepes personally.
“These look amazing!” I enthused as he set them down in front of me.
Maurice beamed. “You are always so appreciative of ze cooking,” he said in his thick French accent.
“Because you’re the best,” I laughed. “But Maurice, are you ready to have either Julia or Jewel as your Queen soon?” I asked, picking up my fork and knife.
The excitable Frenchman glared at King Alexander, his moustaches bristling.
“ Non !” he said passionately. “If that happens, I am out! NON! I am not going to preside over a kitchen with either one of those dead-eyes bitches!”
I ate the crepes as Maurice let me know in a stream of angry, heated commentary exactly what he thought of the idea.
“You won’t have to,” Alexander broke in irritably. “Delilah is your Queen and that is never going to change.”
My lips twitched at the look on Maurice’s face, and I glanced over at Alexander, surprised to see two spots of color high on his cheeks.
“Queen Delilah isn’t going anywhere,” he added, looking at me, his blue eyes blazing.
“Yes, I am,” I shrugged. “In 30 days the annulment will be final. Then you can choose whichever one of them you want. Or a third contender. Or do a whole rotation thing.”
Shutting my laptop, I got up, and Alexander did, too.
“Don’t go!” he growled in a low tone. “This annulment is nonsense. I’m not going to allow it. Your uncle told me virginity was very important in Gesaint culture and that I dare not even try to have sex with you before marriage.”
I couldn’t help grinning at this. “He was pulling your leg.”
Alexander groaned. “You mean we could have been having sex that whole time?”
I looked at him in surprise. He must be worried about the PR if he was so against the annulment.
“The whole country knows you cheat on me,” I said. “It’s not going to be a scandal that we annul our marriage.”
“But I don’t want to annul the marriage,” Alexander said, striding around the table. “Didn’t you see all these flowers? Where are they now?”
“Oh, those?” I asked. “Those are gone. Your note is right there, though.”
He looked down at the torn-up pieces on his plate for a moment, then up at me.
“That’s just the beginning of how I plan to show you I’m sorry,” he said. Look here.”
He pulled a little box out of his pocket and opened it in front of me.
“I got it pulled from the royal vault. It’s from the 18 th century.”
It was a delicate bracelet, thickly clustered with more sparkling diamonds and emeralds than I’d ever seen in my life.
He thought he could fix everything with his money, didn’t he?
I held out my arm and he slipped the bracelet quickly on. Holding it up into the light, I twisted it this way and that, pretending like I was admiring it.
“It looks gorgeous on you, Delilah,” Alexander said eagerly. “I’m really sorry about what happened, sweetheart. I won’t do it again.”
I took two steps over to the garbage can and flicked my wrist. The bracelet fell into the trash with a loud clunk .
“No, thank you,” I said, watching with a vicious satisfaction as his face fell. “It’s not my style.”
“And where’s your wedding ring?” he growled.
“Oh that? I think it’s on my dresser,” I said airily, pushing my chair in. “Don’t worry, I can give it back to you right now.”
“I don’t want it back, Delilah,” Alexander said angrily. “Why aren’t you understanding this? I do not want you to leave . I want you to be my queen.”
“ Over it ,” I said, dabbing my lips with a napkin. “Well, I’ll leave you to your breakfast. I’m going to go pick a few blackberries from the garden to make tea.”
But the King rushed over to follow me out the big French doors into the garden.
“I know you love me,” Alexander said, putting a hand on my arm. “Let me make it up to you. What do you want? I’ll get it for you. Anything .”
“I want a husband who doesn’t fucking cheat ,” I answered, shrugging him off. “So just accept that we’re over.”
He made a low, jagged noise deep in his chest, but I was already out the door.
He followed.
“I’m sorry, Delilah,” he gritted out.
It was a lovely day, the sun beginning to warm the gardens, but there was still plenty of cool shade, especially around the little lakes.
“It’s not enough,” I said, trying to walk faster than him, but I couldn’t with my short legs and his much longer ones. “I’m tired of looking the other way, pretending like it doesn’t hurt when you fuck other women.”
“I’ll stop!” he growled, as I turned to cut through the rows of neatly trimmed hedges to get to the blackberries.
I laughed. “Don’t bother making any wild promises on my account. I won’t believe any of them.”
Since I was done looking like how a Queen was supposed to, and behaving how a Queen was supposed to, I was just wearing my curly hair down and a faded yellow sundress I’d bought several years ago. I had smaller breasts so I wasn’t wearing a bra, and I felt comfortable and relaxed for the first time in a while.
“Now you’re free to sleep with whoever you want,” I added, pulling my skirt out so I could drop the plump deep purple berries onto it. “And so am I.”
“ No !” Alexander cried.
But I kept serenely picking berries, refusing even to look at him.
“I don’t want to, sleep with anyone else,” Alexander said, his voice a low, pained keen.
“After seeing you balls-deep in Julia, I can confidently say I don’t believe you.”
I popped one of the berries in my mouth, and it exploded on my tongue, the juice running down my chin.
His eyes looked hungry, and he licked his lips quickly.
“I didn’t know doing that meant you’d want to leave me!” he exclaimed. “I never dreamed you’d want to divorce me!”
“You didn’t know that repeatedly cheating on me would make me want to leave you?” I shot at him.
“I-I didn’t,” he stumbled over his words, and maybe it meant I wasn’t a nice person, but I just watched as my perfect, confident husband struggled to find the right words.
“And I’m not divorcing you,” I reminded him. “In Norjava that requires you to agree. I’m getting our marriage annulled, which means you have no say in the matter.”
“Come on, Delilah,” he said in a strangled voice, and he ran his hands up and down his pants and then through his golden blonde hair. If I didn’t know better, I would think he was nervous. “Give me another chance. I’ll show you I can change.”
I laughed bitterly. “I gave you plenty of chances,” I reminded him. “You cheated on me the entire time we were married.”
“I didn’t know it would mean losing you,” he insisted, and was it my imagination or was there a different note in his voice?
God, fuck him.
“I’m tired of going around in circles,” I said. “You don’t have to choose now. You can have as many mistresses as you want. Go knock yourself out.”
“I choose you !” he said. “I would always choose you! I swear to you, Delilah, I will never even look at another woman again.”
I scoffed and turned to go.
“I’ll just have to find a way to show you!” he said, a muscle throbbing in his jaw. “I don’t want you to leave me.”
“You can do what you like . I don’t care,” I retorted. “You’re just used to getting your way while you get waited on hand and foot. And dick.”
Oh, St. Constance fucking save me . Was he really going to make the month a huge pain in the ass? But my husband the playboy couldn’t possibly keep up this contrition for the entire month. Soon he’d accept it and leave me alone.
“You’re ruining blackberry picking,” I said.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he urged. “I made a mistake. I’m sorry. Say you’ll forgive me.”
I shrugged. “Fuck no! I don’t believe you and it doesn’t matter. We’re over, Alexander.”