10. Alexander
CHAPTER 10
Alexander
I was in the middle of a meeting, trying and failing to listen to what was going on. All I could think about was Delilah, so when I got handed a message that she was waiting to talk to me, I immediately hurried out to see her, my heart thudding in my chest. I could feel my advisors’ stares at my back.
It was too much to hope that she’d forgiven me already, but was she going to say she could see I was sorry?
Was she going to agree to stay?
My wife stood in front of me waiting impatiently. I was struck again with how incredibly gorgeous and sexy she was. No one on earth compared to her.
Roger and a dark-haired man who I vaguely recognized as one of the palace employees stood behind her, and I felt a sudden frisson of uneasiness. The other man was smiling. . . at my wife, smiling like he had a hope of getting one in return.
“Hello, sweetheart,” I said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the eager anticipation from my voice. “What are you up to?”
A frown line appeared between her brows and she tossed her long dark hair. I noticed her toe start to tap, always a sign that she was a little annoyed.
“I’m not your sweetheart ,” she said reprovingly, as my stomach plummeted at the expression on her face. “Please remember that we are no longer together and do not address me as such. I’m about to go outside and Roger and Davies are going to show me how to change the oil in my car. That seems like a good skill I should learn for my future life.”
I struggled to keep my voice calm. “I’m happy to teach you anything you want to learn, Delilah! Of course, as my Queen you would never need to change your own oil.”
She gave me a death glare. “I’m only the Queen for a few more weeks,” she reminded me, and my stomach twisted painfully as I realized she was not, in fact, here to give me any comfort. “I’m just here to give you back my ring.”
Then she held out her hand and I numbly opened mine.
Delilah dropped her engagement and wedding rings into my palm, the sparkle and glint of the huge emeralds only making me feel ill. The rings felt like they burned my skin, and I fought the urge to grab her hand and refuse to let her go unless she put them back on again.
“You know I don’t want this!” I said, and I couldn’t control that my voice had risen several octaves, or the needy plea that cut across my attempts to stay calm.
“You’ll get over it,” my wife said confidently. “Bye now.”
“Please, Delilah,” I hissed, grabbing her arm as gently as I could, and forcing her to turn and look at me. “I don’t want to take the ring. It can’t be over. I swear on my life, honey, I won’t do it again.”
“ It’s over ,” was all she said, and then she turned to say something to the other man, laughing as she did.
My heart felt like it was getting squeezed in a vice, the pain and jealousy wracking my body.
Who the fuck was this guy?
“At least let me be the one to show you how to change the oil,” I asked, aware that all of my advisors and any staff nearby could see me begging for even 15 minutes’ worth of time with my wife.
“Oh, is this something special you wish you could be the only one to do with me?” Delilah shot back.
Fuck.
I went unhappily back into the conference room and attempted to listen to the latest economic report. But my eyes were glued on the open window, where I could clearly see my wife out on the front lawn with Roger and this other man .
Who was he? Some castle employee who must work with Roger?
Would it make me look like an incredibly jealous and possessive husband to go out and demand he stay away from my wife?
My eyes narrowed.
If he so much as touched her. . .
The stupidest most infuriating part of this whole disaster was that it was entirely and totally my own dumbass fault. I could not stop the constant thrum of regret.
If I had been faithful the whole time she wouldn’t be leaving right now.
She would still be looking at me with that achingly beautiful smile, putting her soft mouth on mine, twining those delicious thighs around my waist.
She turned to laugh at something this other man said, and I burned with a savage jealousy.
Her eyes weren’t cold as they looked at him. They were warm and friendly, not shaded with disgust.
I should close the curtain, turn away. But I couldn’t. The thought of another man getting the sweet smiles, soft touches, and my wife made my stomach heave and I had to clutch the table underneath, where no one could see me, to keep myself from dry-heaving. But this was my punishment. This was my penance. For taking her for granted. For cheating on her like an absolute dipshit. Not because I loved another woman. Not because she wasn’t enough. Delilah would always be enough, always be everything I would ever want. But just because I had been raised with everything given to me on a platter. Even my smallest, most inconsequential pleasure catered to. And so when a five minute blowjob was offered, or easy pussy, I took it because I could and for the same reason I had every other meaningless material item I wanted.
I threw away the best thing I’d ever have for a few minutes of pleasure with women I didn’t give a shit about, and watching my wife fall out of love with me was my painful, excruciating penance.
And I couldn’t think about anything except
Am I going to be able to fix this?
Or is Delilah lost to me forever?