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“N-no, nothing like that.” I force my mouth into a smile that I hope reflects more ‘marital bliss’ rather than ‘arranged marriage with mafia lord’. “Trust me, you’re the only person I would’ve wanted there.”
“This is a lot to take in.” She sinks her teeth into her lower lip. “I don’t even know the guy.”
Neither do I.
“I know, Zara. I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.” My voice cracks at the thought of Zara not being able to let this go.
What if we can’t get past this?
“We’re best friends. Of course, I forgive you.”
“You do?”
She wraps her arms around my shoulders and hugs me tightly.
I screw my eyes shut to try and keep the tears from falling.
“Of course. I mean, it might take me some time to get used to all of this—” She gestures to the enormous kitchen. “—but it’s not worth losing you over. I’m sure you had a good reason to keep this quiet.”
“I don’t deserve you,” I mumble into her shoulder, clinging to her so tightly.
“Marriage has turned you into a weeping mess, B.” She chuckles softly, and the sound is like music to my ears. “Now, how about a tour of the new digs?”
We tour the ground floor of the house, and with each room Zara’s eyes get bigger and bigger to the point I’m worried they might pop out of her head.
“What is it your husband does again?”
“He, uh… He’s an entrepreneur.” I try not to visibly cringe.
Before Zara has the opportunity to ask any more questions that I don’t have the answer to, we reach my new studio.
I open the door and step inside, my blood heating as my eyes land on the cream loveseat against the wall.
“Holy shit.”
“I know.” I smile, looking around the room.
“What is that?” Zara points at the canvas resting on my easel.
My cheeks burn as images of last night flood my mind.
“Uh… That…”
“That is a very naked man!” Zara laughs, hurrying over to the easel to admire the portrait.
After Alexei left last night to go back to his office, I stayed working on his portrait until my eyes were so heavy with fatigue that I eventually crawled into bed at almost 6am. Though, my body clock had me up less than an hour later.
“Yes, it is.” My cheeks are blazing.
“I didn’t realize you painted such…erotica.”
“It’s not erotica.” Though, what followed certainly was.
“Wait a minute…” Zara’s eyes narrow as she studies the painting. “Is that your husband?”
She glances over her shoulder at me.
I sheepishly nod, and her eyes light up.
