Our first morning back, I woke up, and for a second, I could’ve sworn I was still on the beach. But when I opened my eyes, I saw the wood-paneled ceiling and realized I was back in my massive luxurious king-sized bed. Back in New York City where I belonged.
I sighed with relief. My luxury Italian sheets. My view of Central Park. My state-of-the art espresso machine. These were the things I’d missed. But when I turned over and felt the empty, cool spot in my massive bed beside me, I felt a pang of longing.
Angela.
She’d slept curled up beside me on the beach. Here, this bedroom was mine alone. My sanctuary, which I didn’t have to share with anyone. And yet, I missed her. I missed the feeling of her soft body curved into mine, the rise and fall of her chest as she slept.
Jesus. What the hell was the matter with me? I forced the thoughts of Angela out of my head and got dressed and had Marco drive me to the office. I barely paid attention while an employee spoke about flowcharts and a new Knight hotel. All I could think about was Angela.
“Mr. Knight. Do we have your approval?”
“Sure,” I replied, my eyes glazed over.
“Wonderful,” one of my top executives said.
I stared out at the Manhattan skyline when everyone left my corner office. Funny how it was also an island, but nothing like the one where we’d been stranded. I should’ve thanked Angela when we were in the hospital. I should have kissed her, like I wanted to.
But I didn’t know where the hell to begin.
Wasn’t she still a deceptive little golddigger? I pinched the bridge of my nose, wishing I could reconnect with my rage and call her every name under the sun. But that felt wrong. I’d never felt so confused. I wanted to blame the plane crash, but my feelings for Angela weren’t because of my concussion. They were real. Fuck.
“Xavier?”
I turned to see my father enter my office. He looked better than he had at the hospital.
“You really should be at home,” Dad said, taking a seat across from me.
“That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”
He tapped on the table between us. “You need to reconnect with your wife.”
My dad had that look, the look that said he was about to spring something on me. Something I wouldn’t like. At all.
“You didn’t get to enjoy your honeymoon,” Dad said.
“No shit.”
“And we want to show the board that you’re happy together.”
I grit my teeth. “I fucking married her, didn’t I? What more do they need to see?”
“Harmony,” Dad said. “Commitment. A young couple in love. In sync with one another.”
“Fine,” I said. “Just don’t make me get on a plane. What do you want?”
“The Silver Jubilee is two months away. As you know, the event includes a dance competition.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“This is ridiculous. I thought your request would be business-related. Not some goddamn—”
“Xavier,” my father said sternly. “I don’t ask you for much, but this I am asking for. I nearly lost you and Angela both and… Please. If not for the company, do this for me.”
Riding the elevator up to the Penthouse, I was actually looking forward to telling Angela about my dad’s ridiculous idea for the Silver Jubilee. I imagined us laughing, bonding like we had on the island. We hadn’t danced together since our wedding, but she hadn’t been half bad. And of course Angela would do whatever it took to make Dad happy.
But when I took a step into the hallway, I heard two distant voices. Laughter.
“…you know that’s not true!”
“Angela, stop acting so humble for once in your life.”
A man was speaking to my wife, making her giggle and squeal.
Who the fuck was he?
I turned the corner. There she was. Angela, wearing nothing but a kimono, showing off a hint of cleavage, her bare legs exposed.
“What the hell is this?” I said, seething.
The man sitting across from her turned his head and smiled, waving.
“Xavier, welcome home!”
Dustin. Of course, it was fucking Dustin. Angela’s little pet project, the artist we had helped make a superstar. Her little boy-toy.
“What are you doing here, Dusty?” I asked, intentionally messing up his name.
“Dustin,” he corrected. “I just wanted to check on my bestie here. And you, of course, Xavier. I’m so glad you’re both okay.”
I wasn’t going to fall for his nice-guy act. I’d been cheated on before, and I’d never forget how my ex had completely betrayed my trust. A familiar anger began festering inside me.
“Angela,” I said through gritted teeth, “Can I talk to you. Alone?”
“Sure, but Dustin and I are just catching up. Can it wait until…” But she trailed off.
Every word out of her mouth was only making me angrier. My hands were clenched into fists. Why was I reacting this way? Something about seeing her so comfortable with another man triggered me. I’d had a long work day, and I didn’t want to deal with entertaining guests. Especially not male ones who were flirting with my wife.
“Sorry, Xavier,” Dustin said, standing up. “I dropped by unannounced. Angela—”
“Angela can speak for herself.”
“Xavier…” she said. “I…I just wanted to talk to my friend.”
I looked at Dustin. At his oh-so-fucking-cool hipster clothes, his perfectly symmetrical face. And for some strange reason I couldn’t explain, I felt jealous. I wished I could make Angela smile and giggle the way Dustin did. I wished I could have his easygoing charm. His warmth.
Was I being crazy? Maybe. I didn’t know what the hell had come over me. My brain was telling me that I shouldn’t care one fucking bit. She was a means to an end, my wife only on paper. The way I keep my role as CEO of Knight Enterprises. That was it.
But my body was saying something different. Every second spent with those two together in the same room was making my skin crawl. It felt like hell on earth.
“I’ll go,” Dustin said, having the good sense to look afraid. “It was good to see you, Angela.” He took a step forward like he wanted to hug her, then decided not to.
I kept my composure as he walked past me, though I wanted to body slam him into the wall.
After Dustin left, Angela walked up to me, her eyes full of defiance. “He’s gone because you scared him off. Are you happy now?”
Wait, why the hell was she making me feel bad? Maybe Dustin was her lover. How was I supposed to know? Angela appeared so innocent with her big doe eyes and her sweet demeanor, but what if it was all an act?
“What do you want to talk to me about?” She asked, her hands planted on her hips.
Now was my moment. I wanted to tell her about Dad’s stupid idea to enter the dance competition for the Silver Jubilee. Except, I couldn’t picture us laughing about it now. Angela was angry.
The apology was on the tip of my tongue. I didn’t like coming home to find another man in my house, and I’d been gruff. But why should I apologize?
“Forget it,” I said. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Right,” Angela said, muttering under her breath. “I’m going on a walk.”
And as she brushed past me, I felt that unfamiliar sensation again—guilt. Like I was in the wrong. I didn’t like the way it settled in my chest.
“Fuck,” I whispered under my breath.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a text. My lips curved into a smile. Penny…a girl I used to bang. A little flirting couldn’t hurt.
I clenched my hand into a fist. Fuck. I knew what I should say, and what I shouldn’t. My fingers typed out my answer before I could take it back. And then I hit send.
