Page 27 of Iridescent
He starts the car again. Gravel crunches under the tires as we approach the sprawling villa. And just like that reality crashes back. My stomach tightens with nerves at the thought of facing everyone inside.
My husband must feel me tense, because he reaches over and, without takinghis eyes off the drive, finds my hand again and laces his fingers through mine. Our matching gold wedding bands glint faintly in the dim light.
For better, for worse.
“Remember,” I murmur, kissing the back of his hand. “I’m with you every step of the way. We’ll see your sister, stay as long as you want, and leave whenever you’re ready.”
A soft, grateful warmth enters his eyes.“Esý ki egó,”he says quietly, kissing the back of my hand.“Gia pánta.”
My heart melts the way it always does when he speaks Greek to me. Not because he gets every inflection right, but because he learned the language for me.
And I know exactly what he is promising.
“You and me,” I whisper back. “Forever.”
He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. “We don’t have to figure everything out tonight,” he says softly. “One thing at a time.”
I nod, heart swelling. “One thing at a time.” My voice is still a bit hoarse, but a genuine smile graces my lips. It feels like ages since I’ve smiled for real.
The cracks in our relationship aren’t mended, not by a long shot, but they don’t feel insurmountable anymore. We’ve remembered how to want each other, how to laugh together. It’s a start.
As the car comes to a stop, Xavier brings my hand to his lips again and presses a tender kiss to my knuckles.
“Gracias, mi vida.”
“For what?”
“For not giving up on us,” he replies. “Even when I made it hard. And refused to see what was right in front of me.”
Emotion clogs my throat.
His gaze sharpens, something raw and unguarded breaking through the man he shows the rest of the world.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been a dick.” His voice drops as his thumb moves over my knuckles. “Being married to me has cost you more than it should have. The cameras. The whispers. My family. I kept telling myself I was protecting you from the worst of it, but I wasn’t. I made you face it alone.” Hisfingers close carefully around mine. “Please don’t leave me, amor. I wouldn’t survive it.”
The plea goes straight through me.
“I’d understand. God knows I would deserve it. But surviving it?” He shakes his head once, like the thought itself is unbearable. “No.”
My chest goes tight. I force the tears back.
“Life without you isn’t life. It’s punishment. A house with no light. A body going through the motions because the soul already left.” His eyes hold mine. “If you ever walk away from me, you won’t be breaking my heart. You’ll be taking it with you.”
I shake my head, unsure where all of this is coming from. We’ve had our ups and downs over the past eight years, but life has been good otherwise. Leaving him has never even crossed my mind.
“I won’t, baby,” I say, nodding toward the house. “Come on. We have a dinner to survive.”
My tone is light, but we both hear the truth beneath it.
He flashes me that roguish grin that first stole my heart years ago and opens his door. The November night air rushes in, salty from the nearby sea and crisp with approaching winter.
Rounding the hood, my husband comes over to my side and opens my door like the gentleman he can be when he’s not acting like a crazed, sex-starved man.
I step out, my legs still a touch unsteady. He catches me with a hand at the small of my back, and I send him a grateful look.
As we make our way inside, Xavier’s fingertips brush my hip in a secret caress—a promise and a reassurance all at once.
I lean into him, a smile tugging at my lips. We’ll get through this dinner, and later… well, later, my husband owes me.
