The Wrong Wife by Maya Alden

Chapter 22

Declan

Ibrought her a glass of wine to her room, so she'd have it with her in case she was taking that bath she’d mentioned. It had jarred me to hear Viv talk to Esme—not just her tone but how she easily lied about having sex with me today.

I heard the defeat in Esme's voice. Why didn't she fight back? Why didn't she ask Viv to shut up and take a hike? I heard Mateo's voice in my head that her family had trained her to be this way. Julien had threatened her physically and emotionally to become this person. And, yet Esme wanted to do good in the world. Be a social worker, not some social butterfly running a foundation and throwing parties. She wanted to work on the streets and make a difference. Only someone with a huge heart could see past the bad they experienced to want to do the right thing.

She was not a doormat; she was strong and courageous.

I heard the shower start, and I left the wine glass on her bedside table and left.

Esme and I were going to have a pleasant meal with some good wine, and we were going to talk.

First and foremost, I had to clear up Viv's lie. Esme must be disgusted with me, thinking I slept with her sister and then came home and asked to fuck her. The idea of her naked in her shower sent the blood straight through to my cock, tightening my pants. She turned me on. Not because she was the most beautiful woman I'd been with—because there was a light she emanated, maybe because she was always trying to be happy and trying to make others happy.

I brought our plates to the table as she entered the dining area.

I’d lit the candles and dimmed the lights to create a cozy atmosphere. Even in the dimmed lights, her discomfort was clear to see.

"I thought maybe you'd want your wine with you, so I came to your room," I explained once she was seated.

"I forgot it…" she attempted to rise, but I held my hand up.

"Have a fresh glass." I poured wine into the empty glass in front of her. "When I was in your room, I heard you speak with your sister."

She looked at me in panic as if going through the conversation to ensure she hadn't said anything wrong.

"I did not have sex with Viv. Our marriage may be unconventional, but I am married and don't cheat. I won't."

"You're okay being celibate for a year?" she asked.

"Why not?"

"It's just…the media makes it clear that you are used to having a new woman under you all the time until Viv a year ago."

"I'm not a hormonal teenager. So, yes, I can go without sex. My right hand may get a lot of action, but I won't ride some faceless body. I like sex. I like to also like the women I have sex with."

"You like me?" She sounded like a child when she asked that question.

"Very much," I confessed. "You're smart, authentic, kind, and good. What's not to like, Esme?"

She didn't say it, but I knew her family had never said these things to her, and she didn’t believe me.

"I know your family has been harsh with you, but you have friends. Don't Mark and Maria think you're wonderful?"

She shrugged. "They're my friends. And, honestly, I'm grateful that they are. I don't have many friends."

"I'd like to propose a new deal." I raised my glass, and she did the same. "Friends, Esme? Can we become friends?"

"Yes." She licked her lips, and my cock went on high alert. "I'd like that."

This was going to be a long year, I thought, if she didn't give me access to that petite body of hers. But if she didn't, then she didn't. I wouldn't pressure her. I'd let her decide how she wants to control our relationship. So many of her choices had been taken away from her by her parents—I wasn't going to do the same.

“This is great,” she told me on a mouthful.

"We have that in common, a love for cooking. We can cook together. Have some friends over?"

"Yes," she beamed.

I realized that some of her previous smiles reached her eyes but not her heart because right now, her eyes shone bright, and I felt like I was ten feet tall because I'd made that happen.

She was fun to hang out with. Intelligent and thoughtful, well-read, and curious. We talked about a paper she was working on for a journal, and I told her about my plans to expand our offerings to customers. Viv and I talked about work all the time; after all, her law firm was managing the merger, yet it had never been relaxed like this. There was harmony in sharing without planning the next move and the next, which is what Viv, and I would do.

"May I ask what made you…well, do all this?" she asked after we finished our meal.

I refused to let her help clean up and did it while she watched me from the kitchen counter.

"The cooking and cleaning?"

"And the change in…well, earlier, I felt like you wanted me to blend into the wallpaper for the next year. Now you want to get to know me."

She seemed fragile as she waited for me to answer. I dried my hands on a towel and came toward her. I rested my elbows on the counter and my chin on my fists, so my face was the same height as hers.

"I realized that I didn't love Viv anymore. I always thought love never died, but I realized it could be killed; death by a thousand pricks. Viv and I have been on this course since we started, and I can see that now. And Mateo has been hammering me about being a better person where you're concerned. I went surfing today in Newport Beach after I saw your father—and yes, I did tell him not to touch you ever again, and if he did, I'd break all his bones. That's a real threat, Esme."

"It isn't—"

I cut her off. "If someone in your care were experiencing this, you'd call it abuse. Your father is a bully. And the fact that Viv…I expected better from her. Seeing her values are so close to your father's, killed whatever last bits of love and desire I had for her."

"Okay, what now?"

"Now, we eat dessert."

We sat on the balcony with the chocolate gateau, the sounds of the city soothing from sixty-three floors below.

"I start working tomorrow," she told me almost shyly.

"At Maria's place?"

"Yes. Safe Harbor, it's a shelter for unaccompanied women and single mothers."

"What will you do there?"

"I'm going to work as a Clinical Social Worker. Essentially, I’ll provide clinical case management services to help women find housing, do an ongoing assessment of their needs, build skills, and offer mental health support. I'll run coordination meetings for women on the streets so we can move them out there. It's a lot of things, trauma support, de-escalation, crisis intervention, abuse assessments, and ensuring that the facilities are safe because some of these women have walked away from abusive relationships."

It was obvious she loved this. I'd never seen Viv this passionate about justice—definitely about making money and doing right for the business but never about taking care of people.

I had to stop comparing Viv to Esme. I had to stop thinking about Esme constantly in terms of Viv. But she was so different from any woman I'd ever been with that a contrast was inevitable. I dated models, actresses, influencers, lawyers, and even corporate executives. Still, I'd never been with a woman at this layer of society. Regardless of her parents and their wealth, Esme was down to earth and talked about money like regular people did, people who were not born into millions and grew those millions into billions. I'd never had to worry about money. I never had to think, oh, free rent. I wanted that for her. I wanted her not to worry about such things and focus on what she loved to do.

"Esme, I don't know what your family told you about you, but here is what I've learned in the short few days we've been together. You're kind, beautiful, charming, knowledgeable, and most importantly, you have a heart the size of Montana." I looked into her eyes when I spoke. "And I'm humbled that you agreed to help my business by marrying me."

She flushed with pleasure. "Thank you." And then her eyes hooded like she wondered why I was saying these things.

"I'm not trying to get you into my bed," I added. "I'm not going to lie and say I don't want to because I do, but that's not the goal of this evening. I want to get to know you better and make this year pleasant. Make the best of it."

"Okay," she said. "I want to tell you something. I've been using your gym and your pool. But I didn't want to overstep. I—"

"While you're my wife and you live here, everything that's mine is yours. Use the gym whenever you like. Use the pool however you want."

"Whew! I was feeling guilty."

"You work out?"

"Almost every day. My body type will go big if I don't, and unlike my mother, who hardly eats, I love food and wine."

"What's your favorite kind of wine?"

"Pinot Noir…Burgundy, to be specific. Yours?"

"I'm a left bank kinda guy. Bordeaux, deep big, and bold."

We talked about wine and many other things and started building a friendship I had no doubt I'd cherish.