Page 115 of Dex

I don’t know how I’ll survive, sleeping across the hall from her.I won’t get much sleep, that’s for sure.Tossing and turning in my bed.All alone and thinking of her, all alone in her bed.

My right hand is going to be working overtime.

I’ll probably need a wrist guard.I’ve been wondering what she wears to bed.

Soon there will come a time when I’ll have to watch her sitting drinking her morning coffee in my kitchen, or freshly showered, with her damp long, luscious locks hanging over her shoulders and trailing down her breasts.

I can’t touch her or kiss her.

I’m not sure I can handle that.

I want my wife, but I can’t have her.

Chapter 29

DANI

My first day alone, and though its nice outside, the sun is shining, there’s a chill in the air.

I like this apartment block, and that it belongs just to the Knights and no one else.Dexter mentioned that it was only for him, Jett and Zach.I wonder where the others live.I’ve seen the swimming pool, gym and jacuzzi on the ground floor, and hope to go there one of the mornings.

Dexter and I barely speak.He ordered take out last night and I had a shower, unpacked, and went to bed.I was exhausted from the trip, the traveling, the changing time zones, and emotionally drained from this charade we’re acting out.

We move around each other in the apartment like strangers, polite but distant.Dexter’s walls are up, hard as steel, impenetrable, and the only way I can deal with this, with him, is to leave him be.

I worked all day, because there was so much to catch up on.As soon as I logged on, I was inundated with hundreds of congratulatory emails from coworkers, and friends.Many of my colleagues commented on how handsome Dexter is and what a beautiful couple we make.The photos have already been splashed around online, and have also appeared in some celebrity magazines.

Curious, I go online and search our names.A plethora of images come up.I gaze at them for longer than is good for me and I must admit, Dexter and I look good together.A photo from our wedding day catches my eye.Dexter is looking at me, and my heart stops, because his gaze is serious, but weighted by something heavier, something deeper.He’s really looking at me.Almost like he’s in love with me.

I force myself to get to work, and later go out for a walk nearby, past cobblestone streets, shiny sleek glass storefronts, and the kind of stylish locals who look like they belong in magazines.The city buzzes around me, but I feel strangely out of place.Feeling a little homesick, and missing my mother’s cooking, I decide to make something simple but familiar for dinner.Dexter can get takeout and go out, but I like to cook and I yearn for home cooked food.Food I long for.

But as I leave the supermarket, I notice people beginning to stare at me, and it leaves me feeling self-conscious and awkward.When I look over my shoulder, a man with a camera is following me, and now I feel hounded.A little scared, too.I rush on ahead, almost speed walking, and the whole way back to our apartment, I kept looking over my shoulder to make sure he wasn’t following me.I only felt relieved when I saw our friendly concierge.

Making dinner later that evening takes my mind off the stalker, and my uneasy feelings.

The kitchen fills with the aroma of rice, beans and steak.I bought a steak for Dexter, in case he wanted some, but I’m not betting on it.Nor am I waiting for him, like the dutiful wife, who has nothing better to do than to serve her husband.

We aren’t that couple, and I’m not that kind of wife.

I’m at the stove, stirring the beans when Dexter walks in.He sniffs loudly.“You ordered takeout.Smells good.”

The audacity.I pretend to be outraged, because his mood seems lighter, and I like this version of him compared to grumpy Dexter.

“I cooked this with my own two hands, thank you very much.”He leans in, inspecting my plate like it’s a business contract.“Rice.Steak.What are those?”He jabs a thick finger at my beans.

“Black beans, cooked with garlic and onion, olive oil and a bay leaf.It’s a simple dish.”

He eyes the food.“Huh.”Our faces are so close, I catch a whiff of his cologne before he walks away, loosening his tie.

“Want some,darling?”I ask, still stirring the pot, and pretending to be the dutiful wife.

“It smells pretty damned good.”I hear his raspy voice behind me, and startle.I feel something on my neck.Not a touch, butsomething.

Did he just sniff methere?

Or is he talking aboutme?

Maybe I’m going insane, being cooped up here alone all day, reliving our sizzling moments and wishing they were real.

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