Page 61 of The Devil's Pawn

Me: Give me all the gossip. I’m so lonely here. I haven’t made any friends, and I’m no closer to pushing the Devil man into demanding a divorce. If anything, I’m getting further away from my goal.

Me: I’m scared I’m about to lose everything that matters to me.

My texts go unanswered. Not that it’s surprising given the time difference, but my chest feels empty. I’m trapped, alone, separated from everything that matters to me. And to make matters worse, it’s time to admit to myself that I’m attracted to my husband, the burning dislike that had driven me toward my goal waning.

Somewhere along the way, there’s been a shift in our relationship. Maybe it was the way he took care of Douglas’s daughter, or the respect and love his family have for him, or how patient he is with me when we’re playing chess. I’m seeing all these sides to him and, yes, some of them are troublesome, such as his callous dismissal of Will for something that wasn’t his fault, but others… they show him to be a multifaceted man, certain sides of which I’m drawn to.

I don’t like this turn of events. Not at all. I can’t bejusta wife. I’m not built that way. I have skills to offer, yet Alexander dismissed my request to work without a second thought.

The day drags. I stare at my phone, willing it to light up with a response from Emma. It’s late morning in California, and those two tell-tale blue ticks show me she’s seen mymessages yet hasn’t replied. Maybe I’m not as important to her as she is to me.

No, that can’t be it. There’ll be a good reason. This is Emma and me. Friends for life.

There’s no sign of Alexander when I venture to the dining room at six-thirty that night. I’m not sure I’ll manage to swallow anything, but my rumbling stomach urges me to try. As I sit down to fresh fish and veggies, my phone vibrates, and I wrestle it out of my pocket.

Emma: Babe, I’m so sorry. Things are crazy busy over here, what with the new job and everything.

Emma: Hang in there. You’re smart and you’re resourceful. You will figure this out.

I reply immediately while I’ve got her attention.

Me: I thought you’d forgotten me.

Emma is one of the few people I can be vulnerable with. Lord knows, I can’t let Alexander see I have a soft underbelly. He’ll use it against me.

Emma: Never. It’s just a lot, you know? New job and all that.

I refrain from telling her that, no, I don’t know. If I do, it’ll come across as whiny, and I’d hate that. Emma deserves to be happy.

Me: I was kind of hoping you might be able to make it over for a visit soon.

Emma: Oh, babe, I don’t know how. I can’t exactly ask for time off this early.

Disappointed, but unwilling to load guilt on her shoulders, I send a reply.

Me: No. Of course, you can’t. Forget it. I have to go. Talk soon.

I eat the rest of my dinner in silence, but on the way back to my rooms, I pass Alexander’s study. The door is ajar, and I peek inside. He’s fast asleep, sprawled on the couch beneath the window, one leg on the floor and both arms braced behind his head. As annoyed as I am with him for his treatment of Will, his vulnerability at this moment touches something deep inside me.

I walk over to him and crouch to pick up a cushion off the floor. He’ll wake with a crick in his neck if he sleeps like that all night.

“Don’t do it.”

I drop the cushion, startled by Nicholas’s sudden appearance. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He chuckles.

I shush him. “You’ll wake him up.”

He picks up the cushion and tosses it at Alexander’s feet. “Unlikely. He’ll sleep for twelve to fifteen hours straight.”

“How do you know that?”

“He’s an insomniac. Stays awake for three to four days at a time, then crashes for hours. I could blow a trombone right down his ear, and he’d sleep through it.”

Floored by Nicholas’s nonchalant admission, I gape at him. “You’re joking.”

“Nope. Been that way for years. Come on. Help me get him to bed.”

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