The Scorsolini Marriage Bargain

“You aren’t a king yet.”

“But I will be. And because of my position, I have set standards for my own behavior. Achieving those standards challenges me, especially where you are concerned. The only place I gave myself permission to be completely free with you was our bedroom. I found it very difficult to police my behavior in there as well,” he said as if admitting a grave sin.

“I didn’t realize….”

“In my own defense, I thought you knew.”

“How could I?”

“I thought my desire for you was obvious.”

“It wasn’t obvious when you took no so easily and acted as if nothing was different between us. I thought it didn’t matter.”

“Now you know differently.”

“I know that sex is a key element in our relationship, yes.”

“You say that like it is a bad thing.”

She bit her lip and looked away. How honest should she be? Her marriage was over even if he wasn’t willing to recognize that. Was there any use in rehashing old hurts? Then again, hadn’t she spent enough of her marriage hiding from him?

She turned her head so their gazes met. “I wanted you to care for me on a level that was more personal than the sexual.”

“What is more intimate than sex?”

“I’m not sure how to explain it,” she admitted. “It’s just that I wanted to be important to you for my own sake…not only because of the pleasure you found in my body, or even how well I did my job as your wife.”

“You want me to love you.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Maybe nothing less than love would have satisfied me, but it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“You no longer want my love? Is that why you fight my coddling as you call it? You are content to do without me?”

“I don’t mean to fight your attention,” she said around a yawn as the pain meds started taking serious effect. “It’s just come as such a surprise.”

The truth was she liked it. Too much. If she let herself get used to it, it was going to be that much harder to walk away, but she couldn’t seem to summon the necessary willpower to keep rejecting it, either.

“I’m glad you’re here with me right now,” she said softly. “Even if you should probably be somewhere else. I know you have too many other responsibilities right now to be worrying about me, but I can’t help enjoying the attention. I suppose that makes me weak.”

She was speaking to herself really, but he answered.

“No, it does not. It makes you human.” He seemed pleased about something, but she couldn’t imagine what.

She sighed. “I guess, but you can’t afford to take the time to be calling me several times a day, or to keep playing nursemaid.”

“You must stop trying to take care of everyone else in the world. I can well afford the time for phone calls and if I do not care for you, who will? You refuse to tell anyone of your condition.”

He had a point, but she couldn’t leave it there. He was trying to make everything sound so easy and it wasn’t. Only her muddled brain was having a hard time remembering why exactly. She remembered one thing.

“You didn’t have time for phone calls before.”

“I did…until you stopped answering all my calls.”

She stared at him, remembering through the mist trying to cloud her mind. What he said was true. He used to call her several times a day, no matter where he was in the world. There had rarely been any more discernible reason for the phone call than to connect briefly. He would ask about something on her schedule or give her a short rundown on his latest meeting. In fact, a lot of communication she took for granted had happened during those calls. It was only when he stopped making them that she realized it. She had started ignoring some of his calls and even cutting him off when she did answer…because he wasn’t saying the right thing. “It felt like you were only checking on my role as your princess. The calls were too impersonal.”

And that hurt, but then so had having him stop making them.

“How could I have made them more personal?”

Looking back, she saw that for him those calls had been personal, his way of being with her when duty kept them apart so frequently. Her throat tightened with emotion.

“You could have told me…just once…that you missed me.”

“I am sorry I did not spell it out. I thought the calls themselves would give you that message.”

“You called me because you missed me?” she asked, even now shocked by the concept.

“Sì. For what other reason would I have called and discussed such inconsequential matters?”