I shook my head. “They really loved each other.”
“Yeah. But it wasn’t enough to surmount their fundamental differences. My dad bent for her until he couldn’t anymore. Then he did the unforgivable thing, and my mother has never been the same. Neither of them has been.”
I pushed the pad of my thumb down the center of her arch, and her eyelids fluttered closed on a sigh.
“How’d belly dancing go?” I asked.
Her eyes stayed closed, but her mouth lifted into a grin. “Awful. I was terrible and dropped out after three classes.”
“Damn. I was looking forward to a demonstration.”
Her feet vibrated in my hands as she giggled. “If you want to witness the least sexy thing you’ve ever seen, I can make that happen. I still remember a couple moves.”
“I find it hard to believe anything you do isn’t sexy.”
Her eyes opened and landed on me. “That is quite the compliment, Luca. I’m not going to list all the unsexy things I do to convince you otherwise.”
I dug my thumb deep into her foot. “Thank you for that.”
With a yelp, she stole her feet from my lap, tucking them beneath her. “That was way too hard, but this is nice. We never do this.”
I kicked my legs out, resting my feet on the ottoman. “What?”
“You know, hang out. You’re either at work or disappearing to your mystery locations.”
“You’re right. My schedule is hectic. We’re in the initial phase of an internal audit. I’ve been vetting a new company since my father has used the same one for his entire tenure, and Clara and I felt we should bring in someone new. Then there are the countless meetings, video conferences, emails to return. It leaches most of my time and energy.”
“That’s understandable. I don’t fault you for that. I don’t really know what life was like before you took over as CEO, but I get the sense it was nothing like this.”
“You have no idea.”
“You’re right. I don’t. This is the most you’ve told me about anything, including what’s going on with you currently.”
I met her curious gaze. “I don’t keep secrets, Saoirse. You’ve never asked me where I go at night.”
Nodding, she swallowed hard. “The night after our wedding, I fell asleep in here. You came in and picked me up.”
“I remember.”
“You came home freshly showered.”
“Did I?” The things I remembered had to do with her. The flower in her hair. Her dress. The ring she gave me. What I did and where I went were only vague memories I’d stored away in the back of my mind.
“You know you did. And since you go to the gym in the morning, I made assumptions I didn’t want to have confirmed. I don’t ask because I don’t want you to say it.”
I reared back, really taking her in. I didn’t like what she was accusing me of when I’d explicitly told her more than once I wasn’t fucking around. More than that, it gnawed at me that she thought that was exactly what I was doing but hadn’t called me out on it.
“You truly believe I’m out all night fucking, yet you let me inside you without a condom? Make that make sense, Saoirse.”
The back of her hand hit her forehead. “I don’t think either of us were thinking clearly when that happened. Obviously, we shouldn’t do that again—”
“Oh, we’re doing it again.” I shot to my feet, holding my hand out to her. She didn’t take it. “Come here.”
“I’d rather not.”
“If you don’t, I’ll pick your stubborn little ass up.” I shook my hand. “Come here.”
With a sigh, she slipped her hand into mine, and I yanked her upright. Taking her by the hips, I brought her closer to me.
“You need to understand me. I don’t keep secrets, and I don’t lie. If you ask me anything, I will tell you the truth. So ask me.”
Her lashes were dark, except for the tips, which were so blonde, they were almost clear. She usually wore makeup, so I hadn’t noticed until now, looking at her up close.
“Do you take a shower so you don’t come home smelling like sex?”
“No.”
Her exhale was light, drifting between us. “Where do you go, Luca?”
“Do you want me to show you?”
Her mouth pressed into a hard line, and for a second, I thought she’d deny me, but finally, she nodded once.
So, I took her hand and walked to the entry. I grabbed her flip-flops and my unlaced boots, then we left the apartment, riding the elevator one floor down.
I unlocked the door to my other apartment and pushed it open. Saoirse hesitated beside me.
“Come on. Nothing’s going to hurt you.” I gave her hand a tug, and after another beat of hesitation, she let me pull her in, and I flicked on the lights.
“This is where I spend my time. My studio.”
With her mouth shaped like a pretty little o, Saoirse did a slow spin, taking it all in.
When I bought the penthouse a couple years ago, I also bought the one-bedroom below it and gutted it to the studs. Now, it was completely soundproof, with a small, utilitarian kitchen used for cleaning my supplies more than making meals. The bedroom had been made smaller and lined with shelving, where I stored tools, materials, and canvases.
“The sculptures in your living room,” she whispered.
I nodded. “They’re mine. I made them.”
I let her weave around my studio, bending to check everything out, stopping to study completed pieces. She took her time, and I watched.
None of this was a secret from the people who were part of my inner circle. My friends had my pieces in their homes. My parents and sister too. I’d been creating art since I could stand and had been selling a piece here and there under a pseudonym since adulthood.
But no one else had ever entered this space. Saoirse was the first. She was seeing a part of me no one else had. The uncomfortable squirming in my chest took me by surprise. I’d thought I’d show her, lay her curiosity to rest, and that would be that. But as I waited for her to react, I understood why she’d wanted to lash out when I’d asked about her mother.
Without thinking, I’d made her one of my inner circle. She now held a part of me only a few did.
That made me vulnerable to her.
A fact I found I did not like.
Saoirse spun on her toes, facing me. “I can’t believe this.”
“What can’t you believe?”
She strode across the room, and as soon as she could reach me, she shoved my chest. “I can’t believe you, Luca. Why wouldn’t you just tell me you were going to work in your studio instead of disappearing without a word, knowing what I believed you were doing?” She shoved me again. Not hard. Just enough to keep my attention. “I can’t believe I’ve been looking at your sculptures in your living room, trying to figure them out, while I’m living with the freaking artist. I could have just asked you.”
“You could have.” I caught her hands before she could shove me again. “You can ask me anything.”
“I just have to know the right questions to ask.” Her eyes narrowed. “You aren’t wide open, no matter how many times you say you have no secrets.”