Page 41 of Split

Cherie and I pick at our meals as we chat about the shift in the weather and Anton’s plans to whisk her away to the Maldives for the holidays, the conversation flowing more easily with each glass of wine we sink. It isn’t long before we reach the bottom of the bottle, a giggle slipping from my throat as I split the last of it between our glasses.

I can’t remember the last time I was this buzzed in the middle of the afternoon. Considering how bleak my life has become, perhaps I should day drink more often.

“So, what’s your place like in the city?” I ask, toying with the stem of my glass as I relax back in my chair.

“Oh, it’s lush,” she quips, hazel eyes sparkling. “Our building’s in Central Park South with a view of fifth avenue. Anton paid a small fortune, but it’s worth every penny. You two should come over for dinner sometime, see it for yourself!”

“I’d love that,” I reply enthusiastically, head bobbing up and down. There’s lots of traffic and people in the city. I’ll bet I could disappear easily there, if given the chance.

“I’ll make sure it happens, then,” she replies with a wink, and I have no doubt that’s true. Cherie seems like the type of woman who can bat her lashes and flirt her way into getting whatever she desires. Not only is she ridiculously beautiful, but her husband seems to be completely enamored with her.If only all of us could be so lucky.

“So, how’s married life?” she asks, as if she’s reading my damn mind.

“Great,” I chirp, forcing a brittle smile as I lift my glass to my lips.

Cherie leans forward conspiratorially, dropping her voice low. “I’ll bet Roman’s wild in bed, isn’t he?” she probes, wagging her brows.

I choke on the sip of wine I was taking, sputtering to catch my breath as Cherie loses herself in a fit of giggles.

“What? It’s just us girls!” she laughs. “C’mon, satisfy my curiosity. If we can’t dish about our husbands, then what else is there?”

She’s right– the two of us don’t have much in common other than who we’re married to. This is a friendship based purely on circumstance, and if I want to give it a chance to grow and thrive, then I need to water the seeds we’ve planted. Lord knows I could use a friend.

“Yeah, he’s…” I set my wine glass back down as I trail off, clearing my throat while I consider an appropriate way to respond. I settle on, “The sex is good,” though that’s a colossal understatement. The sex is fuckingphenomenal. Every time Roman’s inside me, I forget why I hate him so much.

“I knew it!” she squeals, grinning like a cat as a blush heats my cheeks. “He’s probably one of those super bossy, dominant types, isn’t he?”

I avoid her question by draining the rest of the wine in my glass, though I’m sure my reddened face is answer enough.

“Fine, you don’t have to give me all the details,” she giggles, waving me off. “For the record, Anton’s an incredible lover. I’m convinced that all men in their line of work are. All that pent-up aggression needs an outlet, right?”

I shake my head with a soft chuckle. Though my own experience is limited, I can’t disagree.

Cherie grins smugly as she raises her glass and sips the last of her Rosé, turning to gaze out over the lawn. I flinch when she suddenly jolts forward in her chair, eyes widening in fear. “Oh my god, is that a bear?” she gasps.

I snap my head sideways to follow her line of sight, and this girl’s lucky she’s pretty, because she’s definitely not the brightest. “No, that’s just one of the dogs,” I reassure, a smilecoming to my lips as I watch Nox trotting happily along the perimeter of the hedges. “There’s another around here somewhere, the two of them guard the property.”

She swings her nervous gaze back on me. “Oh. I guess that makes sense, considering you’re out here in the middle of nowhere. Though I don’t really do dogs. I’d just have Anton hire security.”

“My husband likes his privacy,” I murmur, glancing across the lawn again. “And they may look mean, but they’re both big babies. Vesper takes a little more warming up, but Nox took to me right away.”

“Nox?” Cherie repeats, snorting a laugh. “Wow, egomaniac much?”

I turn to meet her eyes, brow creasing in confusion. Before she can elaborate further, though, we’re interrupted by the familiar clack of Clara’s Mary Janes as she emerges from the house, crossing the terrace to come collect our plates.

“Tell me you’ve got more wine?” Cherie pouts, eyeing the empty Rosé bottle wistfully.

“I’m not sure if we have Rosé, but…” I trail off, looking to Clara for confirmation as she begins clearing the table. Unsurprisingly, she gives me nothing, not even making eye contact.

“How about white?” Cherie prompts.

“Clara?” I ask, and she begrudgingly turns her gaze on me, silently awaiting my directive. “Can you bring us a bottle of white, please?”

“Of course, Mrs. Volkov,” she replies politely, giving me a curt nod before turning on a heel and heading back inside.

“You’ll have to give me a tour of this place,” Cherie comments as she watches Clara disappear into the manor. “The boys will be busy with business for a while, and I’ve always been fascinated with old architecture. It’s so delightfully spooky.”

“It’s definitely taken some getting used to,” I murmur, eyeing the crumbling stone exterior of the manor with disdain.

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