CHAPTER 14
Mark
The morning sun streamed through the bedroom windows as I carefully balanced the breakfast tray in my hands.
Quinoa bowl with arugula and pesto. Amelia’s favorite. Black coffee, exactly how she liked it. A strawberry danish from the bakery down the street. Fresh-squeezed orange juice.
I used to make breakfast in bed for Amelia all the time back home on Sunday mornings and lazy holidays.
But here in Paris, this was the first time.
I’d been neck-deep in work, trying to understand what Lucien wanted from the lipstick campaign. And with Amelia going on dates with Florin almost every day, things hadn’t been the same between us.
But that was going to change. Starting now.
I needed to put a full stop to this open marriage thing. I was ready to quit it, ready to go back to our blissful life together.
I was hoping, praying, that she felt the same way.
I pushed open the bedroom door quietly. Amelia was still asleep, her strawberry blonde hair spread across the pillow. The morning light made her skin glow, and through her thin nightgown I could see the curves of her body.
She looked so innocent. So beautiful.
I fought the urge to set down the tray, climb into bed with her, and make deep, passionate love to her until she forgot Florin existed.
Instead, I sat gently on the edge of the bed. “Amelia? Sweetheart?”
She stirred, her eyes fluttering open. For a moment, just a moment, she looked at me the way she used to.
Then she seemed to remember where we were, what we’d become, and something shifted in her expression.
“I made you breakfast,” I said, positioning the tray table across her lap.
Her eyes widened with genuine surprise. “You made breakfast?”
“Your favorite. Quinoa bowl with arugula and pesto.”
She sat up, looking at the spread. A smile crossed her face.
“You even put in sun-dried tomatoes!” She leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Thank you so much, Mark.”
That simple kiss felt like hope.
I sat across from her on the bed, just watching her eat, trying to soak in every detail of this moment. She made a little satisfied sigh after the first bite, and closed her eyes.
This was my Amelia. My wife. The woman I loved more than anything.
“Amelia,” I said softly. “I love you.”
She kept eating, still smiling, but she didn’t say anything back.
“Amelia, I’ve been thinking that we should end this open marriage thing.”
She stopped eating. Put down her bowl, and looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
“Why? What happened?” Her voice was calm, almost clinical. “Aren’t you getting any dates?”
She looked genuinely concerned—but completely unemotional. Like we were discussing whether I was having trouble at work.
“No, I’m getting plenty of dates,” I lied. “But... but...”
“But what, Mark? Aren’t you happy with them?”
“Are you happy with yours?” I met her eyes, searching for some sign that she too is tired of this open marriage.
“Oh, Mark!” Her face lit up, and I felt a sharp pain in my gut. “I cannot tell you how happy I am! This is so much fun. No emotions involved, just pure fun! Now I understand why people have open marriages.”
Each word was a knife to my chest.
“But at the end of it all,” I said desperately, “they come back to their spouses, right? More in love than ever before?”
Amelia’s smile faded. She looked at me with an intensity that made my blood run cold.
“They do,” she said quietly. “If their open marriage didn’t start on a lie.”
Blood drained from my face. “What?”
“You lied to me, Mark.” Her voice was steady, but there was steel underneath. “You fucking lied to me, just so you could sleep with your boss’s secretary. That was pathetic. You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Amelia, I—”
She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Oh no! I’m going to be late. I have a date!”
She pushed the tray aside and hopped out of bed, heading toward the bathroom.
I sat there, stunned.
“Amelia!” I called after her. “Amelia, please. I love you. I’m sorry!”
But all I could hear was the shower running.
When did this happen? When did Amelia become so nonchalant about my feelings?
I knew the answer, even as I asked the question.
This was all my doing. I’d been stupid. So incredibly stupid.
Amelia was slipping away from me.
And this—this breakfast in bed that was supposed to fix everything—might actually be the beginning of the end of our marriage.