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"Because she was raised by her Mamman." Thierry looked at Dean, and they both looked at me with pity, silently saying to one another,this man is fucked up.
"Dom's a great guy," Dean said softly, "as a government covert agent. As a man, he's got a few screws loose. Duncan, he has the job he has because he is the most suspicious motherfucker in the world."
I looked down at my drink, feeling the intensity of my mistake. "I didn't know what to think. Dom made it sound so serious. And I was jealous, seeing her with Vincent."
Dean leaned forward, his voice low and intense. "Did you seriously let jealousy cloud your judgment? You let Dom, a man known for having zero faith in humanity, convince you to interrogate your own wife?"
"I fucked up," I admitted, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.
Thierry shook his head, anger flashing in his eyes. "Elsa is exactly who she shows herself to be. She's kind, genuine, and loyal. She's been visiting Vincent's father, who's dying of cancer, bringing him pastries and spending time with him. That's who Elsa is.
Dean ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe you let Dom's paranoia make you doubt Elsa."
I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead. "I did. She asked me for one thing, and I screwed it up."
"What did she ask?" Thierry wanted to know.
"She asked me not to use her." Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Elsa’s face when she looked at me in my office like her heart had broken because it definitely had. The woman loved me, and I'd given her one big fuck you in response. "And then I did, asking her to bug Arsenault's house."
Thierry groaned. "Man, I was on your side. I told her to give you a chance. How could you?"
"Because I'm an asshole," I threw back at him. "Didn't you know?"
Dean's expression softened, but only slightly. "If you're done with your pity party, any thoughts on how you're going to fix this?"
"She asked for a divorce, Dean," I mumbled. Every time I thought about that, my chest ached.
Thierry arched an eyebrow. "I got one question for you."
"Shoot." I finished my second glass of bourbon for the evening. Or was it the third? Who the hell was counting anyway? My life was shit and the number of drinks didn’t matter.
"Do you love her?"
I stared at him for a long time. "I don't know. I don't know what that means."
"Merdé, he is as clueless as you said he was." Thierry thumped Dean's shoulder.
"I am not clueless," I sniped, wondering if I should have another drink. I slept like shit without Elsa, but drinking at least made the pain disappear for a short while.
"Do you miss her?" Dean asked.
"Yes."
"How does divorcing her make you feel?" Thierry asked.
"Like shit."
"How would you feel if you never saw her again?" Dean wondered.
I felt everything inside me close down. "I'd die," I whispered.
"What do you like about her?" Thierry shook his empty glass of champagne and waved to the server, asking for a refill. Obviously, he was going to drink Krug when he was drinking on my dime.
"She's sunshine and everything good," I said, my lips automatically curving because I was thinking aboutma douce."She's a great cook. She's kind. She has a big heart. When she says she loves me, I feel like I won the fucking lottery. "
Dean nodded thoughtfully. "If Domhadtried to arrest her—"
"I'd have killed the motherfucker if he touched her," I snapped.
