Page 109 of Dex

Silly woman.What was I thinking?

He looks up then, and blinks when I don’t disappear.Then he blinks again, his eyes dark as they slowly inch over my body.

He definitely noticed my outfit.

If he’s going to bury himself in work, then fine.I won’t waste my last day here sulking over a man who clearly doesn’t care.I make the most of the infinity pool, the sun, the recliner, finishing my book and relishing the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.A sound I’ll miss this time tomorrow.

***

Back in São Paulo, my parents greet us warmly.My mother’s eyes brim with unspoken questions.But I sense that my father is stressed.When I catch him alone in a rare quiet moment, I ask, “Papai, o que foi?What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, meu amor.”His voice is warm but I detect the hesitation.“Are you happy?”

I swallow past the lump in my throat.I smile and lie.“Yes, Papai.”

“Has he been good to you?”

I force a brighter smile.“Yes, Papai.We get along.You don’t have to worry.He’s a … really nice person.Don’t worry.I know what I’m doing.”

But, do I?

I reassure my parents, play my part, but inside, my heart is bruised and battered.Dexter keeps his distance, slipping effortlessly into his role as the aloof businessman, the dutiful son-in-law, but I know this is just a role, and it’s only temporary.

I hate that he’s pretending to my parents, even though we all know the deal.Tomorrow I start my new life in New York, and I wonder what beckons and awaits me.

***

By the time we land in New York, reality starts sinking in.A few special moments in our honeymoon gave me a false sense of security, a fleeting feeling that this marriage might not be so bad.

Dexter is softer than he lets on under his hardened exterior.He’s not Oscar Ramos.I have to keep reminding myself that I’m with the better man.And I also have to keep reminding myself that I’m helping my father.

Awkward tension fills the air as we step into Dexter’s apartment.It feels like a different world.A different time zone.A differentsomething.

Like Dorothy from Kansas, I have the strangest sensation of being transported from São Paulo and dropped into my new life in New York.He casually mentions that he’s on the second floor of the apartment block he shares with his brothers.That Jett has the penthouse at the top and he’s sandwiched between Jett and Zach who has the first floor.

“There are amenities on the ground floor,” he mentions, and advises me to go and check them out whenever I want.“This is my humble abode,” he says, tossing his keys onto a sleek marble console by the door.

I look around in quiet awe.“This is… a gorgeous apartment.”

“Thanks.Let me give you the quick tour.”

I follow him down the hallway, my eyes sweeping around the vast property.His place is modern, and slick.Clean and clinical.It looks like it belongs in a magazine.Dark woods, black leather, silver accents.Everything screams Dexter.

“Bricks?”I trace my fingers around the rough wall.

“Exposed brickwork,” Dexter explains.“It’s raw, not dressed up.What you see is what you get.”

“Like you,” I murmur, walking over to the windows and looking out.“Cobbled streets.How charming.”

“You’re not mesmerized by the views of the Hudson River, or the rooftops and water towers of the Tribeca skyline.But you’re in awe of the cobblestone streets below?”

“Simple, and not ostentatious.Like me.”

“You’re not simple,” he says, giving me a peculiar look.

This will be interesting.“How would you describe me?”

I see the flex of his jaw, can tell he’s choosing his words carefully.Might be that he won’t even tell me the truth.

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