Page 110 of The Marriage Clause

Three days since she found me doing laps in the middle of the night and asked if we were having separate honeymoons in the same villa.

Three days since I told her yes, more or less, that was exactly how this worked.

Three days since I said goodnight to Aria and watched her walk away, then got back in the pool and swam hard enough to punish myself for it.

None of this has improved my judgment.

Or my mood.

Or my ability to stop thinking about her.

The espresso machine hisses on the kitchen counter while my phone buzzes beside it.

Jeremy.

I answer without much warmth. "What."

"Good morning to you too."

I pour coffee into a cup and brace a hand against the marble. The villa is still quiet, sunlight just beginning to stretch across the terrace outside, the sea beyond it so indecently blue it looks fake.

"What do you need?"

"The Beijing proposal needs your review today," Jeremy says. I can hear keyboard clicks in the background, the usual efficient rhythm of him moving through five things at once. "And I sent over the top resumes for the Hawkeyes Head of PR candidates last night. I flagged three that seem strongest."

"I saw them."

"Have you looked through them?"

"No."

"Would you like me to narrow the list further?"

"If I wanted it narrower, I'd have asked."

"Understood."

That's Jeremy's gift. Never offended. Never rattled. Always just useful enough to fade into the machinery around me.