“Happiness? I didn’t choose Tara for my bride. I was ordered to marry her. If she were the last woman on earth, I wouldn’t have picked her.”
“Right,” she continues. “Because she isn’t Italian. Doesn’t give a crap about our social traditions. Isn’t afraid to challenge you or say what she really thinks. She’s basically the polar opposite of the ideal wife you created in your head.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”
“Yup. Must be a real bitch to have fallen for your unwanted wife, then.”
“That’s the craziest crap I’ve heard in quite a while,” I chuckle.
“Is it?”
“Listen, sis. I understand that you have these cute delusions about how the world revolves around love and all that mushy shit. I blame those books you like to read for that nonsense. But life isn’t a romance novel, Sienna. And certainly not the life I’ve chosen to lead. It’s tough, and daunting, and theonly way to get through it is by following reason, not flights of fancy.”
“So, having feelings for Tara is unreasonable?”
“Exactly. I won’t lie and say that I’m not attracted to her in some bewildering way. She is a very beautiful woman after all. But that’s just basic chemistry. There’s nothing else to it.”
Sienna leans toward her twin. “Told you. He slept with her.”
“I haven’t.”
“But you want to!”
“Yes, I do. That doesn’t mean I’m in love with her.” I take a sip of the coffee our waiter delivered. “She has made my life complete hell, Sienna. Tara is entirely unpredictable. And she’s got a real talent for pissing me off. The woman gets under my skin like no other. How could I ever be interested in someone like that for more than a good fuck?”
“Mm-hmm,” Sienna smirks, then tilts her head toward Asya again. “That’s why he made her sign that stupid-ass prenup.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “I made her sign that prenup to protect my interests and to make sure she doesn’t make a fool of me, especially in public.”
“Oh, please. Your ego is the size of a small planet. As if your wife’s choice of clothes or little theatrics could ever come close to hurting it.”
“Okay, since you’re such a psychoanalyst, why don’t you explain my real motivations, then?”
“It’s simple.” She shrugs. “You’ve liked her from the very beginning, theatrics and all. That made her an anomalythat’s threatened to crush your carefully constructed idea of how things should be. Which would equate to failure in your book. So your solution was to neutralize those exact traits that attracted you to her in the first place by making her act like everyone else. Because God forbid you actually develop any sort of deep feelings toward your wife and not just have her around to fulfill a social role.”
“Didn’t you hear me? I don’t have any feelings for Tara, damn it! She’s rude. Half-wild. Bullheaded. And she doesn’t give a fuck—”
“About you.” My sister smiles. “Yeah. That’s got to be a bummer. Unrequited love is the worst. No wonder you’re going out of your mind.”
I rake my hands through my hair and pull at the roots, glaring blankly at the table before me. “She demanded a million dollars for every month she’s married to me.”
“Arturo, you threatened to frame her for murder,” Asya says softly.
“Indeed,” Sienna adds. “If I were her, I would’ve insisted on at least double of that! You would have deserved it just for being an asshole to her.”
“In that case, she should have asked for triple.” This is from my gentle-souled Asya.
I stare at both of my sisters. “Shouldn’t you two be on my side?”
“Not this time,” they say in unison.
“Great,” I sigh.
“Talk to her.” Asya takes over now. “Stop being a jerk and admit you like her.”
“There’s nothing for us to talk about.” I throw back what’s left of my coffee and rise. “Sorry to cut this get-together short, but I need to head home to change for the gala tonight.”
“Be careful, brother,” Asya says in that soft way of hers. “Or it might be too late.”