Page 61 of Marry Me Not
I lunged to catch it before it hit the floor and nearly knocked over my coffee in the process.
“Youarejittery. Here.” Elena lifted the coffee from my hand and replaced it with a bottle of water. “Enough of that, or you’ll have a midday crash. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”
“Right, of course.”
“Maybe you should try to take a nap on the flight,” she advised.
I used that as the perfect excuse to disappear to the back of the plane as soon as we’d taken off. I climbed under the covers of the double bed and pulled my phone out while everyone else settled in at the front. Blanket up to my chin, I lay like a kid hiding from a nightmare.
The photo stared back at me.
It had been taken at Rom’s club. Cosimo stood beside a woman, his arm draped around her waist, his palm resting possessively over her hip. The same way he’d held me when he’d walked me out of that same club. There was something familiar about her, but I couldn’t put a finger on where I’d seen her before.
The body of the email said, “Ask him about Rosa. A husband and a wife shouldn’t have any secrets.”
My grip tightened on the phone.
Who was Rosa? The answer felt obvious enough. A woman he’d been seeing. If the date in the corner of the photo was right, it had been taken just days before I returned to New York. Just days before he handed me my engagement ring.
He’d kept seeing her after our match had been made.
I tossed the phone across the bed. A cocktail of anger and hurt surged through my veins.
It doesn’t matter. This thing between you isn’t real.
Sure, the photo was taken before we’d even met, but we’d still been engaged at the time. The moment Rafe told me the contract had been signed, I’d committed to Cosimo in my own mind. When my boss had asked me out in Geneva, the first reason I’d thought of for saying no was the fact that I was engaged. I wasn’t available.
I shouldn’t be surprised. Elena was right. Men in our world did this all the time. They demanded total loyalty from their wives while holding themselves to no such standard. Growing up, I’d watched my aunts blame themselves when their husbands strayed.“I’ve gained too much weight. I look too old. I need to try harder.”
I wasn’t going to do that.
Cosimo had decided to disrespect our match even before he’d spoken to me for the first time. He went out with someone in public, where people could see him and take pictures, after our engagement had already been finalized. For once, I wasn’t going to turn inward and ask what I’d done wrong. If there was anyone at fault here, it was him.
I let the anger burn for the duration of the flight. It was good I’d seen the photo. Useful. It would keep me from slipping into the softer, stupider feelings I’d been toying with. I had no idea who would’ve gone through the trouble of making that email address to send it to me, but as far as I was concerned, they’d done me a favor.
By the time we piled into an SUV and Elena placed her hand on my knee and gave it an encouraging squeeze, the fire had gone out and turned into something colder. Harder.
I knew what I had to do. What this deal dictated. I could play the role of the obedient wife, the role for which I’d been chosen right from the get-go.
And I wasn’t going to allow myself to get confused about Cosimo again.
Just a deal.
I stoodin front of the mirror in the bridal suite while my friends buzzed around me in a blur of movement, finishing their makeup, fixing their hair, and hunting for shoes.
Well, I sure looked the part. The woman reflected back at me in the mirror wore a wedding dress with long lace sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. A voluminous A-line skirt. A diamond necklace that came alive in the light.
I tried on a smile, practicing for the guests and the cameras. I suppose I looked happy enough.
That is, if you didn’t look too closely at my eyes.
I stepped toward the window. Snow fell in slow, lazy spirals outside. Below, guests were trickling into the church. The wedding was taking place on the grounds of a farmhouse, but the church was a proper Catholic one with a tower stretching toward the sky and arches of stained glass inside.
Mia came up beside me. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
It was. But I couldn’t focus on the beauty. I couldn’t focus on anything but the image of the photo that was burned into the backs of my eyelids.
I needed to clear my head. “I’m going to get some air,” I said, grabbing a shawl.
