"Is it?"
"Oh, my heavens…you haven't voiced these suspicions to Eden, have you? That would devastate her," Rachel said, sounding worried.
Aristide thought silence the best defense at the moment.
His mother gave him a shrewd look and then shook her head. "You fool."
The condemnation was so aggravating, coming from his doting mother, that he turned on her. "You are the one who told me my marriage was not all it should be."
"But I never said it was Eden's fault."
"You thought it was mine?" he asked in total shock.
"Well…yes. I thought you took your wife for granted, that you were naively certain her feelings for you would never change despite your neglect."
"I neglected her?" he demanded, one of his infernal headaches starting.
"Well, perhaps neglect is too strong a word, but you lived apart quite a bit. By your choice," she emphasized.
"Did you ever think that was because she was hard to live with?"
His entire family stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. Maybe he had. Maybe that is what losing one's memories did to one.
"Are you serious?" Sebastian demanded. "The only sweeter woman on the face of this earth than your wife is mine. Eden loves you so much, I almost pity her at times."
"Why the hell would you pity my wife?" Aristide asked in a near roar.
"Because she so obviously wanted to be with you and you seemed totally oblivious to how much your absences hurt her."
"Did you ever tell me this?"
"I tried." If looks could shrink a man, Sebastian's gaze would have turned Aristide into a Lilliputian. "You would not listen."
His mother was shaking her head at Aristide. "You are an idiot, my son. I am sorry to say it, but it is true. I thought you were smarter than your brother when you never doubted the parentage of your baby and married Eden right away." Sebastian grunted at this. "But I must say you are making up for that small act of wisdom with colossal stupidity now."
Lunch went downhill from there and by the time he got back to his office, Aristide felt attacked from all sides and his head hurt like someone was squeezing it in a vise.
Eden wandered down the hall of the spacious villa, feeling lost and disoriented. She was completely alone for the first time since discovering Aristide had forgotten her.
Phillippa and Vincent had left that afternoon and, because she and Aristide had planned to eat out tonight, the staff had the evening off. Theo was over at his Uncle Sebastian and Aunt Rachel's. When Eden had called to cancel their plans, Rachel had asked to have the baby anyway.
Her children had been looking forward to playing with their little cousin all week and were not at an age that they understood the changes wrought by their uncle's amnesia. Heck, she was a grown-up and she was struggling with comprehension.
She'd been clinging to her son since coming out of the hospital, needing the connection when everything had gone so terribly wrong with his father. Only it wasn't fair to the baby to keep him with her when he could be with his cousins having fun, so she'd let him go.
Without really understanding why she did it, she drifted into Aristide's room. There was nothing for her here. Just a tastefully decorated, tidy room that now housed her husband when once he had shared the master suite with her. The room's immaculate condition did not surprise her, but the sense of desolation that swept over her when she stopped beside the bed he now slept in did.
Emotions she had been holding in check since the accident fought to break free of the restraints she'd placed on them.
She shook her head against them, dropping to her knees beside the bed. His scent was there, on the carefully smoothed duvet, and she moaned as an ache that was both physical and soul-bruising slammed into her.
She'd tried to avoid physical proximity since his return from New York and moving into another bedroom. She refused to humiliate herself by letting him see how much she craved the comfort of his body. And she was afraid that if she let herself get too close, she would whimper like a pathetic, lost puppy, seeking her master's touch.
He still desired her. His telling her he wanted her had been proof of that, but climb down that it was from his position of separate beds, it had been hardly flattering.
So, he wanted to have sex with her. That didn't mean anything.
He still put Kassandra's feelings ahead of Eden's. Even if he didn't remember her, he knew she was his wife and she should be his first priority. A harsh bark of laughter erupted from her throat. What a joke that was.
Even when he'd remembered her, he hadn't put her first. She'd been a sexual convenience when they were dating, one he picked up and put down depending on his traveling schedule. At the time, she'd thought they had something special… just because he made an effort to spend time with her outside of bed. What a sap she'd been.
Their marriage had elevated her status in the eyes of others, but not his…she saw that now. Could not help seeing it. Even as the mother of his son, she'd only carried so much pull.
A whisper in the back of her mind tried to say it hadn't been that bad, but the pain roaring through her drowned it out.
She hit the bed with her fist, wishing it was him. His willingness to cancel their dinner in favor of sharing one with his assistant was the final straw. Okay…so he didn't know that it was a special night, but he did know he'd made a commitment to spend it with her and he'd broken that commitment.
Eden hit the bed again and then collapsed on the floor in a fetal ball. She was worse than a forgotten wife; she was the despised wife—unimportant to Aristide in any way. He didn't even need her physically, not like she needed him. He might want her, but he was surviving celibacy just fine.
He didn't lay in bed night after empty night, longing for her presence, wishing for warmth that was never there.
Misery clenched her insides as tears burned her eyes. She couldn't fight it anymore and she stopped trying to. For once, it wasn't necessary. Everyone was gone and she was alone. She could cry out her grief without scaring her baby or having to explain herself to anyone.
She'd put on the brave front for Aristide's family, not wanting them to know how much his daily indifference hurt her. Not only for the sake of her pride, but for the sake of how they saw him. She'd even glossed over her emotional turmoil to her father when he called, wanting to know how she was doing now that she was back in Greece.
She refused to hurt her family by marriage and didn't trust her own father to understand or really care, so she'd carried the burden of grief alone. But it was too heavy and something inside her snapped under its weight.
She could hear her own racking sobs, but it was as if they were coming from someone else. She beat her fists against the floor over and over again until the sides of her hands were numb. It wasn't fair. She loved him. He didn't love her. She knew it. Wasn't that bad enough?
Why did she have to deal with the pain of being forgotten on top of it? Why? Her chest hurt from the violence of her tears and she didn't care. She lurched up and back on her heels screaming out, "Why? Why? Why ?" between wrenching sobs.
She fell forward again, but something stopped her.
"Eden!" Aristide's hands were on her shoulders, their grip tight. "What is the matter?"
She shook her head and tried to pull away from him, unable to stand his touch. He wouldn't let go and she found herself pulled into his lap right there on the floor, his strong fingers pressing her face up so he could look in her eyes. "You must calm down, this kind of crying will make you sick."
"I—I…c-can't stop," she forced out between sobs.
"Yes, you can, baby. Hush," he soothed.
But she would not be comforted…he had called her baby again, a reminder she was not his wife…not really…not anymore. And that hurt so much, she would have doubled over with the pain of it if he had not been holding her so securely. An anguish-filled moan snaked out of her throat and her weeping increased.
He swore and started rubbing her back, talking to her in a gentle tone that barely penetrated her agonized mind. Eventually, however, a startling reality did manage to pierce her out-of-control grief—Aristide was here with her, not at the dinner with Kassandra. With a monumental effort, she forced herself to swallow back her sobs.
Hugging herself, she tried to keep her body from shuddering with more tears. "Y-you c-came h-home."
"I wanted to see Theo before he went to bed. Dinner is at seven-thirty." Aristide ruefully looked down at the tear splotches on his silk necktie. "It's a good thing I was already planning to change my suit."
The hope drained out of her. He had not come home for her…not even to see her before leaving again. He'd come for the baby. "He's not here," she said dully, too drained to even try to get off of his lap.