Scare him? Scare him? Lana was the one wasting away here. She was the one battling her subconscious in a game of wills she could not afford to lose. She had hoped to have the air cleared regarding her husband’s fidelity by now, but her illness put her behind schedule to the point she refused to let Chloe into the master suite, citing that she didn’t want to possibly spread anything. Either Roberta brought things directly to her or Ken took care of everything when he got home. He didn’t even complain when Lana was too sick to go to an important business meeting right after Christmas.
“Lana?”
She squeezed his hand back. “I’m worried that I’m seeing things that aren’t there.”
Her husband sat back with a start. “What do you mean by that? Do you mean like…?”
“I don’t mean mental illness.” She snorted. “Unless I really am depressed or anxious, I guess. I’m not turning into my mother.” Another snort, this time of derision. “I mean I think my brain is fabricating situations that aren’t really there, because it can’t believe that happiness lasts this long.”
Although his face said he didn’t understand a damn thing she said, the words coming out of Ken’s mouth were completely different. “Bunny,” he began. “Come downstairs. I have something I want to show you.”
He helped her into her nicest silk robe and led her down the hall, down the stairs, and into the dining room, where an elaborate candlelight dinner was set. Lana sat down, shocked but unable to express it. Ken sat next to her, his hand never letting go of hers.
“Happy anniversary, Bunny. Here’s to ten more.”
Champagne, a delicious meal, and their mutual favorite of chocolate pecan pie. It overwhelmed Lana, who started sobbing halfway through their meal. Ken didn’t say anything. He held her hand and cleaned up the carrot she had dropped with her fork. I don’t deserve this man. Even if he were cheating on her, she didn’t deserve him.
That was a dangerous thought.
***
Luckily, Lana was a woman who could get over herself as quickly as she fell into the trap of being so into herself.
By New Year’s, she was better. Out of bed and back to work, at least. She and Ken attended a party at Le Château with most of the other patrons and a few of their guests. They were congratulated on their ten year anniversary and asked if they had any advice for the budding couples around them. Ken said it took “a lot of patience and communication.”
Their love life returned to somewhat normal. Not as kinky, but at least Lana was in a place where she felt good enough letting her husband back into her body. Ken did not complain. It tired Lana having the model husband who only served to make her feel guiltier for her suspicions.
By the first week of January she was back downtown, attending meetings, busting balls, and having lunch dates with people beside her husband. If it weren’t for the ghost haunting her brain, Lana would consider herself back to completely normal and business as usual.
Except things could never be left alone. Not when she and Chloe lived in the same damn house.
More than once she considered firing the girl, giving her a nice severance check and referral, and hiring a butler – not that it would stop anything. If Ken had been cheating on her with the maid, he would move on to someone else – including the butler. Her husband’s tastes for men were nowhere near as strong as they were for women, but with Lana’s paranoia cranked to the max, she trusted no one, man or woman. Her best bet was hiring an older maid who had the sex drive of a eunuch.
She saw her chance to tackle things, however, one sunny – but cold – day the second week of January. It was one week before she and Ken boarded their flight for their second honeymoon, and she was not going to let certain opportunities pass her by.
Especially when she found Chloe sitting on a bench during her break, flipping through more of Ken’s personalized stationery.
“What is that?’ Lana demanded, swiftly approaching the young maid before she could see the oncoming storm and put the evidence away. “What has my husband given you?”
Chloe gaped at her, caught red-handed. God, she looked barely a day over eighteen. In truth, she was in her early 20s, but had such a baby face that Lana wouldn’t blame her husband for lusting after her. In another situation, Lana may lust after her as well. We would both devour you, girl. Lana didn’t want to consider the thought right now. Not with the help.