Page 10 of Faithless

When she makes it down the stairs, I smile at her. “You look gorgeous.” My voice is slightly breathless.

She frowns. “No, Mark.”

“No, what?”

Her lips tighten. “None of that.”

Heat is pulsing through my veins, making my jaw clench. God, why can I never control myself with her? I try to keep my voice light. “None of what?”

She opens her mouth and then closes it again. “You’re not going to flatter me out of a divorce. I know you’re desperate right now, and I feel for you. But your desperation is…” She purses her lips. “Not flattering.”

I raise a hand in the air. “So I can’t tell you that you look beautiful when you do? What should I say then?”

She sighs. “Tell me I took thirty minutes when I said it would be twenty. That’s what you would normally say.” She smiles faintly. “And look exasperated when you do. Far more exasperated than the situation warrants given that we’re going to a charity event for a client we’re probably dropping at the end of the fiscal year.”

Her small smile is smug. Who is this woman?

My jaw clenches, but I continue my way to the door and outside, and she follows close behind. She gives me a look when I open the door for her, but fuck it. That’s what I used to do when I took her out on dates.

Oh God, why couldn’t I have forgiven her years ago? Would she still be giving me this look, or would my chivalry be a given? I’d commit murder to get one of those sweet half smiles she used to give me over small gestures like this.

“You’ve gotten a lot meaner since you asked for a divorce,” I say after I shut the driver’s side door.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her smile. “I have nothing to lose now.”

A chill runs down my spine, but I try to ignore it. She thinks she has nothing to lose?

We’ll see about that.

* * *

Whitney

* * *

We walk up the long drive in tense silence, a continuation of what started in the car. What on earth is he doing? Trying to woo me into not divorcing him? I don’t even enjoy these charity events, but he knows I would have refused anything else resembling a date.

He’s ruthless, my husband.

If he thinks this is the right approach to attempt what I know is just a last-ditch effort to keep his fortune and daily habits intact, he’s a fool. Bribing me didn’t work, so he’s trying to manipulate me. Make me believe we can make a real marriage out of this.

If he really understood the deep issues between us, he’d know that nothing short of total honesty could make me even consider reversing this decision.

I’d need him to tell me he hates me, admit that he’s hated me for fifteen years. And before that, he didn’t really love me, because it can’t be love when you don’t really know a person. I was an angel to him, and an angel isn’t a person. It’s a vessel to store fantasies about love and warmth and kindness that we’ll never know on this earth. No one is pure love and kindness. Certainly not me.

I disappointed him so drastically because I did something so much more despicable than he could ever imagine. I fell like a meteor from the heavens to the ground. All because I was too insecure to embrace the love of this larger-than-life man and so stupidly loyal, my heart refused to let go of the boy who never truly cared for me.

After walking through a large vine-covered arch, we’re greeted by a server who asks each of us if we would like a glass of champagne. I nod profusely and grab it from the server’s gloved hand before he even gets the chance to extend it in my direction.

“Damn,” Mark says as I guzzle the liquid.

“I need a buzz,” I say, enjoying the bubbly burn as it trails down my throat.

As I lower my glass, I glance at Mark. He’s staring at me wide-eyed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that before.”

Not wanting to discuss the awkward nature of our situation, I look away from him. I cross my arms over my chest and twist around to scan the array of people. When I catch sight of the couple walking in our direction, my stomach sinks.

I need more champagne.

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