Page 81 of Nothing Breaks Like A Heart

"What's going on in your head?" Andrew suddenly asked, his gaze sharpening. "You're quiet."

I shrugged, knowing I couldn't have a personal and deep conversation now. "Just tired and a little stressed. The lights going out was unnerving."

"I'm sure it was nothing. No one seems concerned but you, Lauren. You should try to relax. Have another glass of champagne. We might as well try to salvage something out of our honeymoon," he said, a dry note in his voice.

"Are we still having a honeymoon? You've been so distant today, Andrew. I'm sure Allison's death hurt you, and I want to be there for you, but I don't know how to talk to you about it."

"We're not discussing Allison," he said, his voice turning to ice. "It was an accident. And we can't change anything, so we move forward."

"I want to move forward."

"Then do it," he snapped, losing patience with me. "I get that this has been a rough couple of days?—"

"Rough?" I interrupted. "I could have died yesterday, Andrew."

"I know that. I was there. And I was terrified that even if we found you, it would be too late. But it wasn't. You're alive. You're okay. And you should be happy and grateful we get to be at this beautiful party tonight. But everything we have to do is a hardship to you, and I'm getting tired of having to pump you up through luxury experiences like an incredible massage or an exclusive party for the rich and famous. Do you know how many people would like to change places with you right now?"

I stared at him in amazement, shocked by his harsh words. "It's my fault that I feel bad after getting shoved off a yacht in the middle of the ocean and left to die?"

"We both know that's not what happened," he said tersely. "It's what your drug-addled brain made you think happened."

"Either way, I was in the water struggling to survive, not you. It's pretty easy to judge me for an experience you didn't have."

He exhaled sharply, then raised his hand in what looked more like surrender than apology. "Okay, you're right. I guess I'm trying to move past the bad stuff so we can enjoy the good times. But you are fighting me every inch of the way, and it's exhausting."

"I'm not trying to fight, Andrew. I want things back the way they were. I want us to feel connected."

"We'll get there, but we both have to try. And that starts now. Can you look a little happier?"

"I can," I said, realizing he was partly right. I was tense, constantly searching for threats in the shadows, desperate not to be caught off guard again. It wasn't only because of Andrew's suddenly inconsistent behavior; it was everything that had happened to me.

"Good," he told me, his stiff shoulders relaxing with my words. "We love each other, right, Lauren?" His questioning gaze bored into mine, demanding the right answer.

"Right," I said automatically, even though love was the last emotion I felt right now. But arguing with him was only making things more uncomfortable.

"Then let's start over now. Let's move forward together. Tonight is a good night. Tomorrow will be even better. We have nowhere to go but up."

I wanted to believe in his certainty, but my mind kept circling back to the blackout.What had really happened in those five minutes of darkness? And more importantly, what was coming next?

Twenty minutes later, Victor gathered everyone in the living room once more.

"Before our meal, I have something special I want to share with you all, the newest piece in my collection." Victor's eyes gleamed with barely contained excitement. "Please follow me upstairs and into my gallery."

A ripple of anticipation moved through the crowd. As we ascended the stairs, I couldn't help but notice how the security presence had doubled since our last visit. Two guards flanked the gallery entrance, their weapons prominently displayed in tactical holsters—a clear message to anyone considering mischief. They collected our phones in a woven basket, citing a strict no-photo policy that felt more ominous than before.

The gallery's climate-controlled air washed over us as we entered the room and formed a semicircle around the previously empty display case that was now covered with a white linen cloth. Victor took his position behind the case, with Ethan hovering at his shoulder like a particularly vigilant shadow. Paula stood off to the side, her perfectly manicured fingers fidgeting with her diamond bracelet. Bennett stood with the rest of us, looking both bored and angry, as his father commanded the spotlight.

I glanced at Andrew beside me. The transformation in him was startling. Gone was the relaxed and somewhat distant man from the patio. His eyes now burned with intensity; his body coiled with anticipation.

"Tonight is a very special night," Victor began, drawing my attention back to him. "In the early eighteenth century, King Louis XV of France was known for his extravagance, and his queen and mistresses famously adorned themselves with lavish jewels. But there was one notable and spectacular blue diamond that was beyond anything anyone had ever seen. It was cut into the shape of a heart and worn in a large pendant by Louis's queen as a symbol of his love. It was called the Heart of Eternity, and also known as the Unbreakable Heart, because it could never shatter."

The irony of the name wasn't lost on me, standing there beside my increasingly mysterious husband. Some things broke in ways that had nothing to do with physical destruction.

"While it couldn't break, it could be stolen," Victor continued. "The diamond disappeared during the French Revolution. There were alleged sightings over the years, other smaller blue diamonds that were suggested to have been cut from that original stone, but nothing was ever proven. And then six months ago, in an old farmhouse in the South of France, a very old man died, and one of his heirs discovered a velvet pouch tucked away in an old army boot."

Victor paused, a master storyteller who knew exactly how to hold his audience. I could feel the electricity, the anticipation in the room. It was palpable.

"Inside that box," Victor said, "was the bluest diamond this man had ever seen. He knew he had stumbled upon something very, very special, and he reached out to a jeweler to find out what it was worth. The jeweler was a friend of mine. He'd known of my interest in finding that diamond for years, and he was able to broker a private deal between the three of us."

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