Lover (Betrothed 3)

She listened to every word like she was actually interested in what I had to say. “How did you get into that line of work?”

“I dropped out of university and made friends with the right people. I hustled to get the experience I needed, and once I qualified for my first loan, I started my own bank. One thing led to another, and that business grew.”

“I remember my father said you were a smart and accomplished young man.”

I wasn’t young anymore. My thirties were passing quicker than my twenties. “I wouldn’t consider myself to be smart. Just ambitious.”

“Well, I think you’re smart. Actually, I know you’re smart.”

The smartest thing I ever did was marry her.

She and I talked about the Tuscan Rose and other things related to work, and I realized it was one of the first times we’d talked about normal things. It reminded me how passionate she was about the hotel and her family’s legacy. I saw the ambitious and savvy woman I’d met years ago. It reminded me why I fell in love with her in the first place. In the meantime, our dinner was served, and we ate in comfortable silence.

I loved having dinner with her when it was just the two of us. Sofia didn’t ramble on like most women. She was comfortable with the silence like I was. That was why I hated her mother. That bitch never shut up.

Sofia ate most of her food quickly, showing she was truly hungry. Her hormones probably kicked up her appetite, and she needed more calories to take care of two people instead of one. She clearly enjoyed her food, which was good because the last thing she needed to worry about was calories and carbs. “Have you thought about names?”

I stared at her blankly, not understanding the question.

“Baby names.”

No, I hadn’t given it any thought at all. I was very happy about my son, but my mind was in the gutter lately. All I really cared about right now was getting laid. Maybe my future son would think I was insensitive, but when he became a man, he would understand. “No.”

“Well, I have.”

“Let’s hear it.”

She set down her fork and abandoned her food for the moment. Now that she was talking about our child, she lit up like Christmas morning. “I really like it, so don’t shoot it down right away.”

I wasn’t picky about names, but I did want my son to have a strong and masculine name. “Alright.”

“Since this is our firstborn and we may not have another boy…”

No, we would have another boy.

“What if we name him Andrew?”

I stared at her for several seconds because I couldn’t believe what she’d just said. The suggestion practically blindsided me. I hardly identified with that name anymore. I’d been Hades for so long, my former identity was practically forgotten.

She studied my reaction.

When I found my words, I spoke. “Why would you want to name him that?”

“Why wouldn’t I want to name my son after his father?”

Her admiration for me had never been so obvious. For years, it was impossible to get her to see me as more than just a fuck buddy. I gave her everything, but she was never impressed. But now, everything felt different. It seemed like this woman adored me, respected me. She clearly trusted me, relied on me for everything. She used to be so stubborn and independent, but now she actually leaned on me. I was so speechless, and I didn’t know what to say. It made me feel like an asshole for being so frustrated by her distance in the bedroom. I’d actually let another woman touch me because I was so parched from this dry spell. I knew I was a man behaving like a man, but that was no excuse. I needed to get my shit together.

She continued to study my gaze. “Is that okay?”

I cleared my throat. “We can name him whatever you want.”

“But I want you to love the name too.”

I’d never considered being a namesake. I’d never considered myself worthy of such an honor. But I did like the idea of having a son who carried my name, who carried my legacy, who would be there for Sofia when I was gone. “Yes. I like it.”

“Great.” A beautiful smile came onto her lips. “That was easier than I thought it was going to be.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re so stubborn.”

“I’m stubborn?” I asked incredulously. I pointed my finger into my chest because I couldn’t believe she threw that accusation at me. “Come on, baby. You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

“Am not.” She grabbed her glass of water and took a drink.

I cocked an eyebrow and gave her an expression full of accusation. She was impossible to tie down because she was ornery like a wild horse. I’d asked her to marry me once, and she’d dumped me in response. When she came to live with me, she wanted her own room. I had to force everything to happen because nothing would’ve transpired if she had it her way.