Page 43 of Choosing Hope
Spencer’s gone to considerable lengths to keep this from me. I don’t want Carlo to deal with the fallout if he takes me down there.
But I’m fixated on the prospect of seeing Spencer with this woman. If I could catch him with her, and see their chemistry, I’d be better able to assess her threat level.
I keep clicking through the website, gleaning as much information as I can about the place. The figures the club generates are astounding, it’s been lucrative.
For the next hour, I go back through each of the files I emailed myself systematically, reading every word.
One is a report sent from Spencer to Travis. It includes a comment about his concern for staff morale. From the wording, it seems they’ve had a few disagreements between staff; in a sex club I’m sure such animosity isn’t unusual.
Needing distance for a while, I head to the kitchen for a coffee.
While the steaming brown liquid flows from the machine, I lean back against the counter, examining my white cup. My mind is so full that my head throbs.
Chapter Nine
Sophie
I’m not proud of myself for my SOS call to Carlo, and have been battling with my decision ever since, but after talking to Nicky five days ago, I understood I had to do something positive.
Carlo was coming to the UK this weekend anyway, for Lily’s birthday, which made it easier to ask for help. He’s promised to speak to Spencer, which is all I could hope for.
When he quizzed me about what was going on, I intentionally didn’t go into too much detail on the phone, aside from stating that I rarely see Spencer and that our relationshipneeded help.
It’s hard to say if he was already aware of the issues, but my announcement certainly didn’t come as a shock. In typical Carlo style, he told me nothing, but somehow made me feel supported and heard.
It didn’t surprise me to learn that he knew Spencer was in Dubai; they’ve always spoken daily. Nothing happens in our lives that Carlo doesn’t know about. Which is why he’s the only person who can help.
I don’t even have a second of doubt that Carlo won’t do everything in his power to help Spencer. He’d gift wrap the world and give it to him if he could.
Knowing I’ll have his input should help me relax a little, but it doesn’t. I’m scared our marriage is too strained. The demise has been simmering in the background for too long. Spencer works long hours but whenever we are together, our love shines through. However, even when we’re laughing and happy, I can see the darkness in him and watching him struggle is breaking my heart. I’m petrified, not that I will lose everything, but that my husband already has.
Spencer’s return from Dubai yesterday afternoon filled me with joy because he came straight home.
I held him tight, hoping to eradicate the unwelcome distance that seems to be growing between us. The way he didn’t question my gesture. The way he gripped hold of me as if he wanted to absorb me. Gave me hope that he’s trying; he doesn’t want to give up on us, and I suspect he’s struggling to find the path back.
I’ve told him so many times, in so many ways, that I don’t have a problem with his relationship with Carlo. Short of unzipping Carlo and ordering Spencer to latch on, I’m not sure what else to do.
The damage isn’t visible. It’s in my husband’s head, and it’s killing me that my outburst helped put it there.
If I thought by walking away, I’d solve this, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Not because I want to, but because I can’t bear seeing him like this. However, I’m certain me giving up on him isn’t a solution.
Both men’s parents have been invisible throughout their lives. Nonna was the only constant until she died. I’m determined not to be like the rest; I can’t leave. I won’t.
After tucking Lily into bed tonight, I flopped back at the dining table with my new laptop. My obsession with gleaning every scrap of information about this club is unquenchable.
Knowing Spencer was spending the evening in London, I needed to keep myself distracted. But I couldn’t help wishing I knew exactly what he was doing.Is he with her?
There was a loud knock at the front door.
It was most unusual to have unexpected visitors at this hour of night, so I glance through the peep hole. When I saw Carlo’s beaming smile it was just the tonic I needed.
“Buonasera, Bella, how are you?” he asks, his Italian accent thicker than I remember.
Carlo’s mere presence blankets me with a level of comfort I haven’t experienced for months.
“Carlo! It’s so good to see you,” I sob, and he pulls me into his arms. “I miss you.” I tell him honestly, hugging him back hard.
Once he releases me, we mosey into the kitchen, while Carlo explains that after speaking to me on the phone, he decided it was more important for him to be in London to try to finally sort things out between us all.
