I stop dead in my tracks as I turn the corner. Perched on the arm of the gold and red velvet couch is Yara, looking like she has just walked out of a magazine instead of coming from the same party I was at last night. She’s wearing her usual breeches and black boots. Her legs are crossed, and she is bouncing one of her feet while she drinks what appears to be an espresso as she chats with Alex.
“Yara?” I ask, barely believing it. “What are you doing here?”
“Did you have a good night?” she asks in return, completely ignoring my question.
“It was okay,” I say distractedly, looking around. “Where’s Emma?”
“Sleeping,” she answers, before standing up and getting ready to leave. She looks at Alex once more and says, “Well, have a great day in beautiful Venice.” And she walks past me and exits the living room. I blink at her abrupt departure, and turn to Alex, who is also sipping espresso and looking bored.
“What was she doing here?” I ask him, planting my hands on my hips.
“She came just to say hello,” he replies, before he also rises from the couch and makes to leave the room.
Not so fast! You’ve got some questions to answer, I think to myself.
I know he’s lying about Yara, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.
“Tell me the truth.” I stand in his way to make sure he answers me. “What was Yara doing here? What happened?”
Alex tries to brush me away and walk past me as he answers, “I told you, she just came here to say hi.”
“Alex, please,” I trail behind him, not ready to give up my interrogation. “Is it something to do with Emma?”
“It has nothing to do with her!” he snaps, whipping around to face me. “Can you stop now?”
“Is it because of your trial?” I take a step back now that he’s facing me, trying to look innocently curious. The trial is a major sore spot between us, but I just have to know.
Alex heaves a sigh, displeased by my usual insistence. “Are you recording this?”
I shake my head rapidly. “No, I can only tape conversations in New York.”
“Oh, that’s good to know,” Alex responds, raising his eyebrows in genuine surprise.
“Can we talk once and for all about this?” I ask, my eyes on his.
He doesn’t reply immediately, but his gaze drifts down as he considers me. “If you’re going to insist on talking, let’s at least go out onto the terrace and I’ll have the butler bring you some tea.”
We head outside to a heated terrace, me still in my robe and Alex fully dressed in a crisp suit. The butler brings him another espresso and a cup of hot green tea for me, as well as two brioche rolls with custard, a slice of Italian frittata, and a plate of mixed red fruits. I take a bite of the frittata and sigh in pleasure. This is really delicious. I gaze at Alex, preparing for the conversation.
“I’m sorry for siding with Eric,” I tell him sincerely. If this is about having an honest conversation, then I suppose it’s fair to start with an apology. “He wanted to press charges against me and—”
“And you freaked out,” he interposes, yet his tone is not rude. “That’s what they do. It’s their job to scare you. The more scared you are, the more they can control you.” He snickers, looking away for a moment before standing and digging his hands in his pockets. “I still can’t believe you’re going to testify against me though.”
I look down at my lap, fiddling with the tie of my robe. “When the pregnancy test was positive I simply didn’t want to risk going on trial and getting convicted for something I hadn’t done.” Then I stand up and try to walk over to him and put a hand on his arm, but Alex just paces around the terrace, trying to get away from me. “Why don’t you try to understand my side of things?”
“Because you betrayed me,” he snaps, his tone laced with a sadness I wasn’t ready for. “You are going to testify against me in a trial open to the public.” He goes to the railing of the terrace and leans on it, staring blankly out into the city. “Do you realize the negative impact this is going to have on my reputation?”
“It’s not like last time—no one's going to vote you out,” I insist.
“You don’t get it, do you?” he asks, irritated. “After everything I went through because of us, my wife herself is gonna talk shit about me in court.” His voice is nearly a growl. “This is gonna be way worse than what I went through last year.” He finally turns back to me, hurt plastered all over his face. “If you were on my side, we could face this together, we could show strength and unity, but you aren’t…” Alex draws out a breath, running a hand through his hair.
“Don’t make it sound like it’s all my fault,” I tell him promptly. “You abducted my mom and lied to me about it.”
“No, I didn’t,” he retorts. “I knew they’d take care of your mom since she wanted to give Jan the police report on our wedding day, but I had nothing to do with her abduction.” His voice is stubborn, trying to conceal the pain he is so clearly feeling.
“So why didn't you tell me the truth back then?” I ask, flabbergasted. “Why?”
“Because you were against it,” he snaps bluntly. “You asked me to promise you that nothing would happen to your mom—no matter what she tried to do against us.” The truth smashes me in the face, and I gasp, not knowing what to say. “Once she was detained, she wasn’t a threat anymore. She was like in jail, except with a proper bed and healthy food, no one was hurting her.”
“And for how long were you thinking you’d keep this secret from me?” I’m shaking my head in disbelief, and sit down on my chair again, my legs feeling weak.
“Until the day you had me arrested,” he says with finality. “I had reached an agreement with your mom and Winter freed her. Yet she betrayed my trust and didn’t have any intention to follow through.”
I swallow the lump in my throat at the revelation. Oh my gosh… Well, at least he’s being honest for once.
“Despite everything else, I had no idea that they injected her with the nano-particles.” His tone is sincere, and I feel a pang of regret as I realize it. “Now, if you want to use what I just told you against me in court…” he lets his words trail off, searching for my intentions in my gaze. “Do whatever you think is right.” And he stomps past me, walking back inside the house. I want to stand and follow him, but I don’t—Alex is opening up to me for the first time in a while, so maybe I should give him some space to decompress.
I’m so tired of these wars that I don’t feel the need to share what he told me with anyone else. No matter what I do, nothing will bring Mom back. But there is one thing I’m sure of: I will never, ever trust my in-laws again. They are the most horrible criminals one can be. Why? Because they've mastered the art of deception like no one else, pretending to be a bunch of civilized people, while at the same time killing anyone who stands in their way. Margaret and her daughters might have killed my mom and gotten away with it, but I will never forget what they did. Never.
I relax into the chair as much as I can, putting my feet up on another chair across from me and enjoying my tea and avocado toast while I watch the city awaken. There is a little bit of a chill in the air, and the butler brings out a chunky cable knit blanket for me to wrap myself in upon request. The entire scene is very domestic and cozy, and it’s only missing one thing: my husband. It’s such a unique place. Even if Alex won’t enjoy it with me, I want to soak up my time in Venice. Who knows when I’ll get to return next?