He wraps me tightly in his arms once more, then releases me so we can get up. Reluctantly, I peel myself out of bed and pad off to the shower. As I enter, I marvel at the size of the bathroom. It took me aback last night, and it’s not losing its impact today.

I’m not surprised at all to find the water pressure in the shower better than perfect. Looking down at my body, I can see the evidence of our lovemaking — red marks from teeth and lips, scattered remains of sublime pleasure.

By the time I emerge again and head into the kitchen, Paul has whipped up a breakfast like I’ve never seen before. “This isn’t exactly traditional Bellamari fare,” he says sadly. “It’s hard to get all the stuff in the US. But it’s the closest I could do.”

There are pastries and toast, fruits that I can barely name, all laid out in a huge spread. “Wow. Thank you. You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

He crosses the room to wrap his arms around my waist, and pulls me into his chest. “How many times do I have to remind you? You’re my wife. That means it’s my job to do nice things.”

“Well, this is a very nice thing.” I rest against his chest for a moment, then realize he’s wearing a button-up shirt. “Wait a second. You look like you’re about to go out.”

He looks at me apologetically, his face falling. “Unfortunately, I just got some bad news from home. I have to leave this afternoon. But I’ve left the spare key for you on the table, so please feel free to stay here as long as you like.”

“You’re leaving?” I stammer, taking a step back from him.

“I have to,” he says, then rummages in his pocket and produces a small rectangle of paper. “The check, as promised.”

He presses a hundred thousand dollars into my hands and kisses me on the forehead. “I’m sorry to have to go like this. Call me later if you like.”

“Sure…” I say, dumbfounded.

He kisses me once more, then, without even looking back, he marches away to the door, pulls on his shoes, and leaves.

I stare down at the paper in my hand.

All I can do now is let out a sob.

Then I slump down at the table and bury my face in my hands. I’m not sure how long I sit there for, letting the turbulence of emotions out until I have no tears left to cry.

And then I get up again.

I should probably go home. I collect up as much of the breakfast as I can manage into a bag, then rush down to the first floor, back to the ground, where there are noisy cars and the atmosphere wavers in the heat.

I’m about half a block along the street when I decide to flag down a taxi. It would be good to let someone else drive me home. And it’s not like I can’t afford it now.

Mom’s on the phone when I get back, and I can’t pretend I’m not relieved. Later, no doubt, she’ll ask me about the ceremony. She knew it was today, and it took absolutely everything in me to stop her from showing up. Eventually she accepted that she really didn’t need to come because this wasn’t a proper wedding and would hardly count as one, and that Paul was a real, non-murderous guy.

I did have to promise her that I would let her plan my real wedding, but that’s not something I can see happening for a long time yet.

As I dump the bag on the floor, I wave at her, gesturing at the breakfast that I’m putting out on the counter.

Then I vanish away to my room so I can lie down on my bed and stare at the ceiling.

I want to cry, but the tears won’t come. All that’s left is a sense of hollowness. A complete numb emptiness.

Paul is gone.

He’s gone. He got what he wanted, and despite all the pretty words, I have the sickening feeling I’m never going to see him again.

How have I gotten so attached in just a few short days?

How could I have let myself believe that this man cared about me?

But that’s the thing. Idobelieve it. Nothing he said to me gave me the impression that he was being insincere. Maybe he’s away at home now laughing, thinking about how stupid I was to fall for all his promises, how shallow I was to accept his proposal.

If I’m being realistic, I’m probably never going to hear from him again.

But he gave me what I wanted too. With this, my dream is going to come true.