Behind Her Smile

by Luck, Olivia

  As if coming out of a trance, Alec blinks then lifts his drink. “To realized dreams.” He catches me in one of his unrelenting stares. Without breaking the connection, I lift the cool glass and clink it against his.

  “To realized dreams,” I repeat in a whisper.

  I thought I was talking about the baby growing inside me. I thought I was talking about the dream of a family. And to a certain extent, that’s the dream I am talking about. But my husband doesn’t look at me with love shining in his expression. Most of the time, he reminds me what a disappointment I am to him. All my worries would disappear if my husband thought I hung the moon instead of embarrassing or enraging him at every misstep.

  A flush spreads through my body, and I need another sip of iced tea to cool down.

  “If I could, I would make all your dreams come true,” Alec says with so much sincerity that emotion tightens my throat. “Don’t say anything.” He presses a finger to my closed lips and then I remember why we don’t touch. The moment our skin connects, my entire body hums in appreciation. “Accept that I care for you,” he commands. When I nod my acquiescence, his finger disappears from my lips.

  “I care for you too.” The more time I spend with Alec, the less I want to lose him in my life. I fear that this child will be the beginning of the end of our friendship. God, I don’t want to lose him, but my child is my top priority now. Higher than David, higher than myself.

  The intimate moment breaks when the surly waitress arrives with our food. I tilt my face toward the heavenly sandwich and inhale deeply, steadfastly ignoring the question lurking in my mind.

  How deep does that care go?

  I flutter around the kitchen, anxiously checking the oven clock. David landed at the airport an hour ago. He should be home any moment. Somehow, I managed to keep my secret every time he called me.

  I’m most worried about his reaction. With his volatile emotional state, I never know what David I am going to get. In my fantasy, David will be thrilled about the baby and maybe he’ll remember the beginning of our relationship when there was enough love to overcome whatever angered him. I know it’s a foolish dream, but dreams are all I have left.

  Bang! The front door closes with force.

  He’s here.

  David’s loafers clap against the floor. Meanwhile, Carlo ascends the staircase with David’s luggage. Earlier, I requested Carlo and Miranda make themselves scarce to give us privacy.

  With a tremulous smile, I stand with my hands clasped underneath my belly, my back to the kitchen island. An unfamiliar man enters the kitchen. Yes, the golden aristocrat is my husband, but his shoulders slump in defeat and his hair is wild as though he dragged his fingers through the strands multiple times. Wrinkles of distress crease his forehead and crow’s feet I never noticed before bracket the corners of his eyes. For once, he is the one embattled and vulnerable.

  “You’re home,” I breathe.

  “Hello, Karolina,” he says wearily.

  “How was your trip?” I ask tentatively.

  “None of your concern,” he says tersely. “Where is Miranda? I need a drink.”

  Swiftly, I whirl around to the island. Then I turn back and present him with a tumbler full of amber-colored Scotch.

  David exhales loudly, and then moves forward to take the drink from my waiting hands. Terror fills me, but I need to push through. For my unborn baby.

  “I have something for you.”

  Slowly, he sips from his drink, eyes slipping closed as he savors the liquor.

  “Hmm,” he murmurs non-committedly.

  “If you could do me a favor and grab dinner from the oven?”

  David’s brow furrows. Morgans don’t do housework. They hire staff to take on things like cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc. I am not a Morgan by birth and thus, am used to housework. In fact, I rather enjoy cooking and doing things around the house because it gives me a small sense of accomplishment. But I don’t spend time in the kitchen because my husband believes it’s beneath my status. I refuse to pass snobbery like this on to our child.

  “Please,” I add.

  Still scowling, David places his drink on the counter and crosses the kitchen to the double oven.

  “The top one,” I add.

  He grasps the handle and pulls open the door, allowing a warm blast of air to enter the kitchen.

  “What is this?” He examines the yeasty, garlicky item.

  “A bun,” I hedge, second-guessing my lame joke.

  The door snaps shut and David turns to fully face me. Gone is the exhaustion he wore like a heavy burden. Wonder settles into his features. “A bun in the oven?”

  Shyly, I nod. He shakes his head slowly, teeth flashing with a transformative smile. “You’re pregnant?” He asks again as if he doesn’t understand what I’m trying to say.

  “Three positive tests. I would have kept them, but that was kind of gross. My first appointment with Janet is on Monday.” With three long strides, David closes the distance between us and lifts me into the air. I squeal in surprise, laughing when he presses his face into my neck and nuzzles me there. His euphoria is contagious. I want to weep with relief. David is as thrilled as I am about this development.

  “A baby,” he repeats, his breath hot against my skin.

  “A baby,” I confirm.

  He spins me around the room, twirling us until we’re both laughing and dizzy with love and possibility. For the moment, everything is right.

  The china, cutlery, and stemware are in place for fourteen diners. A team of chefs prepares a four-course meal in the kitchen. Every inch of the house gleams in its cleanliness. Fresh flowers permeate the air with their gentle scents. My twist-front jersey Lanvin dress will camouflage my growing belly until the grand pregnancy reveal David has scheduled for dessert. The anxiety rolling through me makes me want to gnaw on my lower lip, but that would mess up the gloss and lipstick and that would upset David. Nothing can upset David tonight because this dinner is extremely important to his business. The dinner guests are some of Morgan Financial’s wealthiest individual clients and David’s top target, the Martinez couple. There are five couples joining David and me at the house tonight, and two single men. Alec Christos is one of them—my only friend, Alec, who doesn’t know about the pregnancy. I haven’t told him about the baby for fear that the news will hurt him. It is inevitable that he find out, I know this, but still, I don’t want to argue with Alec. And I’m terrified that when he finds out, it will be the end of our friendship.

  Wringing my hands together anxiously, I finish my perusal of the dining room and walk into the great room to check on the volume level of the background music.

  “Everything set?” David asks tersely, striding into the room. He looks the part of the immaculate, gorgeous financial whiz in a two-button Lanvin suit. David wanted us to wear matching designers tonight. Every detail carefully orchestrated.

  “Ready to go.” I feign a sunny smile and David nods curtly in my direction.

  The doorbell rings and saves me from dwelling on the sadness that David barely acknowledges my presence and the work I’ve done to put this evening together.

  Multiple footfalls bring my attention to the room’s entrance. Suddenly, David is at my side, an arm wound around my waist. Hector and Adriana Martinez are the first to arrive . . . and Alec Christos appears not too far behind them. My stomach flips. A flush creeps up my neck, warming me from the inside out. Alec gazes at me intently, and I avoid a reaction, knowing David’s sharp attention won’t miss anything. I shift awkwardly until David’s fingertips dig into my hip painfully to halt the movement.

  “Welcome,” he greets boisterously.

  The show is on.

  A moment later, Miranda bustles into the room to take drink orders and, thankfully, more guests arrive. As is usual with these events, smaller groups break out among the many people, and I find myself giving a tour to Adriana and another woman. We are walking into the house from viewing the backyard landsca
ping when I beg off to check on the progress in the kitchen. I skirt around the workers, heading to nab a sparkling water from the refrigerator.

  “I need to speak to you.” A large hand clamps around my bicep, tugging me out of the kitchen in a hurry. Alec pulls me into the first room adjacent to the kitchen, which is David’s office. He shuts the door behind us firmly.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask breathlessly. His onyx eyes are darker than usual. His nostrils flare as he appraises me. The soft exhale escapes his lips and brushes against my cheeks; we’re standing that close.

  “Karolina . . .” He whispers my name like a prayer then shakes his head firmly. “I won’t do this anymore.”

  “Do what?” I should leave. Right now. This is playing with fire in the worst way. And normally, if I got burned, it would only be me I have to worry about, but now I have a baby to think about.

  Alec closes the gap between us. He plows his fingers into my hair and then all rational thought disappears as he slams his lips on mine. The kiss is wild. I can almost taste his hunger. He nips at my lower lip until I welcome his deeper assault. Our tongues duel. My hands rise to grip the lapels of his jacket, drawing him closer to me. His passion does nothing to outshine mine. I can’t get enough of him.

  All my pent-up attraction explodes with a fierceness I never knew I had in me. I suck on his lower lip. I urge him closer still. I want everything this man has to offer. His lips are heaven. His touch is divine. He moves to kiss the line of my jaw, the corner of my lips and then, wonderfully, his lips are on mine again. I whimper. More.

  This is what a kiss is supposed to be like.

  Gasping for breath, I jump backward and cover my thumping heart with a hand. Reality sets in and self-loathing spreads over me like a wildfire. What have I just done? I’m married and pregnant, no less. The betrayal is staggering.

  “That was a mistake.” I don’t sound as convincing as a married woman should.

  “Bullshit,” he snaps, taking a step closer. “You felt that as much as I did. Yet you stay with him. Tell me, Karolina. What does he have that I don’t? David Morgan is nothing more than an arrogant trust-fund prick running a perfectly good business into the ground. Explain to me what you see in him.”

  I cower a few steps backward, trembling at this emotional outburst. “It doesn’t matter what I think or what I feel. This can’t happen again.”

  “Karolina, I love you.”

  My heart seizes. Hopelessness and elation flood my senses at the same time. Oh, how I would flourish under a relationship with Alec. But I can’t have him. For better or for worse, I made wedding vows to David Morgan and my baby.

  “I’m pregnant,” I whisper the words.

  Alec sucks in a startled breath, staring at me in disbelief.

  “No.”

  “David and I are having a baby.” Still I whisper as if that will take the edge off the offensive words.

  Alec barks out a laugh. “Wow. You really played me with those doe eyes and innocent smile. What a moron I am.” His voice is hard as granite, furious.

  “Alec, no, I never meant to mislead you.” Tentatively, I step toward him again, raising a hand to place it on his shoulder, but he bats me away.

  “Just another whore,” he says venomously, “married to a man for his money. No wonder you quit designing. What the fuck do you need a job for when you have David Morgan’s money to fall back on? You disgust me.” His accusations hurt more than any of the physical pain I received from David has. I nearly double over from his harshness.

  Whore. Whore. Whore. The word slices my heart. Tiny, brutally honest nicks.

  “What are you doing in here, Karolina?” The door to the office is wide open and David fills the doorway, staring at me with hard, emotionless eyes.

  “Your wife gave me a tour. And now I’m done,” Alec says. I know he’s talking about more than the house. He means done with me. Forever.

  “It’s dinnertime,” David says. His voice could freeze the depths of hell.

  Alec stalks out of the room without looking back. David moves into my space and grips my upper arm in a punishing hold. “Do not fuck this up for me, Karolina.”

  “I won’t.” There’s no assurance in the way my voice trembles.

  “I’ll deal with you later. Until then, be on your best fucking behavior.” Nodding, I let him take me back to the dining area and our guests. I paste a pleasant expression on my face and allow David to pull out my chair.

  Behind the mask, my heart crumbles until I feel nothing but a gaping hole in my chest. An all-encompassing sense of loss strips me raw. But I’m not able to succumb to the emotional turmoil. It’s an important night for Morgan Financial, and there are certain obligations I must fulfill as David’s wife. I maintain conversation with David’s guests, not slipping up once. Alec plays the game as well as I do. No one would guess what happened a few minutes earlier unless they looked deep into my eyes and saw the depth of my sorrow.

  It’s only then I realize I’ve fallen in love with Alec. How could I have been this blind? All these years, I have been lying to myself. The driving emotion behind my commitment to David isn’t love. Fear pushes me to remain with him. I’m afraid David is the only man who will love me. After a lonely, loveless childhood, I wanted someone to take me in and take care of me emotionally.

  On the opposite side of the lavish dining table, David talks with his cultured smoothness. He smiles widely at his guests. At one time, I found that smile dazzling. I know what’s lurking underneath. And this man is going to be the father of my baby.

  And on the other side of the table is Alec.

  Hungrily, I take in the strong lines of his profile, his strong cheekbones, and crooked nose. Alec, who sees me as I am. Alec, who wants me to achieve my dreams. Alec, who never once made me feel like I embarrass him. Alec, who looks at me as if I matter. Alec, who built success in the wake of tragedy. Alec, who takes an interest in my personal goals. Alec . . . The room starts to swim.

  “Karolina, are you all right?”

  I’m fighting to breathe. My chest is tight. I’m lightheaded.

  Chaos erupts. Silverware clangs against the china and conversation grows louder. I struggle to focus on anything but gasping for breath. The tightness in my chest threatens to crush my erratic heart.

  “Karolina, look at me.” David wraps a hand around the back of my neck and turns me to face him. His penetrating blue-green eyes bear into mine. “You are having a panic attack. Take a deep breath.”

  Shaking my head back and forth violently, I gasp. “I can’t.”

  I nearly collapse forward when he jerks my chair away from the table. Then I end up in his arms. I press my face into his shoulder, trembling with the effort of staying conscious. Collecting me against his chest, David settles onto a couch. He holds me tight, whispering nonsense into my hair and rocking me back and forth.

  Slowly, oh so slowly, my breath settles. The black dots dancing in my gaze fade.

  “Karolina,” David murmurs from where his chin rests on my head.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, knowing how I must have humiliated him.

  “This was not the right night, Karolina.”

  I scramble out of his arms. Quickly, I smooth my hair and check my dress to make sure it hasn’t fallen out of place. “Tell them I’m pregnant. It will explain the panic. You’ll get sympathy.” I’m frantic. This was David’s big night, and I screwed it up royally. There’s no way he will forgive me without punishment.

  David rises to his feet gracefully. He intertwines our fingers and squeezes painfully until I gasp. “Don’t say a word,” he says under this breath. I don’t want to cling to him, but I’m afraid I will fall to the floor if he doesn’t support my weight.

  “Please accept my deepest apologies,” David’s voice turns to honey once we’re back in the dining room. “We wanted to wait to tell you this under better circumstances, but Karolina and I are expecting a baby.”

  A chorus of gasps a
nd congratulations come in response. “Needless to say, it hasn’t been the easiest pregnancy. I am terribly sorry, but I must take my wife to the emergency room to ensure my wife and our baby’s safety. You are all welcome to stay here for after-dinner drinks and dessert. Miranda will be in shortly to take your preference.”

  Adriana Martinez leaps to her feet and comes to stand next to me. “You poor darling.” She strokes the back of her hand against my cheek. I nearly whimper at the tenderness in the older woman’s gesture. “All sorts of hormones are racing through your body. If you need any help, you be sure to call me.” She directs this comment to David with all the warning of the mother.

  “Adriana, you’re too kind. We will take you up on that offer. Hopefully, this is nothing but a scare.” David sounds so sincere I almost believe him. But I know better. This emotional outburst is unforgivable.

  David steers me away from the table amid well wishes from our guests. I allow myself one fleeting glance at Alec. His face is stone, not giving off any hint of emotion, his jaw locked in place. And then David sweeps me away.

  I don’t know if I’ll ever speak to Alec again. At least in the way we had been.

  And I’ve chosen to be with the monster.

  I can’t remember when I stopped listening to David’s threats. Looming over me, fire in his eyes, David would tell me if I screwed up one more time, he’d kill me himself. He’s said it enough times that I stopped believing him. David was obsessed with his image, probably more so than even his mother. If his wife were to die in mysterious circumstances, his reputation would never recover. David wouldn’t dare threaten his reputation by destroying me. No, I never believed he wanted me dead.

  Until this moment.

  The blood coursing through my veins turns to ice. Goose flesh sprouts along my arms and shoulders. I start to shiver uncontrollably because I believe him.

  “I heard stories about you, but I didn’t realize you were actually that cold. Wanting to knock off your own wife. Wow.” The Latino cackles and turns to Cox. “Can you believe this shit?”