Chapter 6 Chapter 6
Chapter 6
SELENE
"I know, I know," Derek was saying, his voice soft in a way it never was with me. "I wish things were different too."
I pressed myself against the wall, my heart hammering. I shouldn't listen. This was wrong. But my feet wouldn't move.
"The gala?" Derek continued. "Of course you're invited. Grandmother would never exclude you—you've been involved with the foundation for years." A pause. "But Jasmine, you know how it is. I have to attend with Selene. Grandmother will be there, watching everything. If she sees me with anyone other than my wife, she'll cause a scene."
My wife. The words should have given me some claim, some power. Instead, they felt like shackles binding both of us.
"I know you wanted us to go together," Derek said, and the longing in his voice cut through me like a knife. "Believe me, I'd prefer that too. But we have to be careful. Grandmother is already suspicious about how much time we've been spending together."
Silence. He was listening to her response, and I found myself holding my breath, straining to hear even though I knew I wouldn't be able to make out Jasmine's words through the phone.
"What if..." Jasmine's voice was faint but audible now. Derek must have put her on speaker. "What if I came with someone else? As a friend's plus-one? Then we could both be there, and Rosalie wouldn't suspect anything."
"Who did you have in mind?" Derek asked, and I could hear the frown in his voice.
"I don't know. Maybe one of your friends? Someone from the office?" She paused. "What about Marcus? Or James?"
"No." The word came out sharp, possessive. "Not them."
Jasmine laughed, the sound light and flirtatious even through the phone. "Derek Sterling, are you jealous?"
"I just want to make sure you're comfortable," he said, but his tone had shifted—warmer, almost playful. "How about Drake? He's safe."
"Safe?" Jasmine's laugh was louder now, delighted. "Oh, you mean because Drake isn't interested in girls? You want someone who definitely won't flirt with me? Are you worried about someone stealing me away?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Derek said, but I could hear the smile in his voice. The kind of smile I'd seen in those old photos on his laptop. "I just want you to have a good time without any... complications."
"You are jealous," Jasmine teased. "That's actually kind of sweet."
"I'm just making sure you're alright," Derek insisted, but there was no real protest in it. He was enjoying this, enjoying her teasing, enjoying the intimacy of their conversation.
I couldn't listen anymore. My hand flew to my mouth, pressing hard against my lips to keep any sound from escaping. Tears streamed down my face as I backed away from the door, my vision blurring.
This was what love sounded like. This playfulness, this warmth, this easy back-and-forth between two people who understood each other. This was what I'd been hoping for, praying for, in my marriage. And Derek was giving it all to someone else.
I stumbled toward the kitchen, no longer caring about being quiet. Let him hear me. Let him know I was awake, moving around the house. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered.
My hands shook as I filled a glass with water from the refrigerator dispenser. The sound seemed deafening in the quiet house. I took a sip, but it did nothing to wash away the bitter taste in my mouth.
Behind me, I heard Derek's voice drop lower, more intimate. "I should go. It's late."
"Will you call me tomorrow?" Jasmine asked.
"Of course. Sleep well."
"You too. And Derek?" A pause. "Thank you. For always looking out for me."
"Always," he promised, and the single word held more devotion than any vow he'd spoken at our wedding.
The call ended. I heard the soft click of his phone being set down on the desk. Then silence.
I stood in the kitchen, gripping the edge of the counter, trying to breathe through the pain that felt like it was crushing my chest. The conversation had confirmed everything I'd suspected, everything I'd tried to deny. Derek wished he could be with Jasmine publicly. He wished he could take her to the gala as his date, show her off to society, claim her as his.
And I was the obstacle. The wife he was forced to parade around to appease his grandmother. The burden he had to shoulder until... what? Until Rosalie died? Until he found some way to divorce me without disappointing the woman who'd arranged our marriage?
I heard footsteps in the hallway—Derek emerging from his study. I quickly turned away, pretending to be absorbed in drinking my water, not wanting him to see my tears.
"Selene?" His voice was surprised. "What are you doing up?"
"Couldn't sleep," I said without turning around. "Wanted some water."
"Oh." A pause. "Are you feeling alright?"
The concern in his voice felt like mockery after what I'd just overheard. "I'm fine."
Another pause, awkward and heavy. "Well, I'm heading to bed. Early meeting tomorrow."
Of course. Always another meeting, another excuse to leave, another reason why he couldn't be present in our marriage.
"Goodnight," I said to the refrigerator.
I heard him hesitate, as if he wanted to say something more. But then his footsteps retreated, heading up the stairs. Going to our bedroom, to our bed, where he'd sleep on his side while I lay awake on mine, the distance between us measured in more than just inches.
I waited until I heard the bedroom door close before I let myself break down completely. My legs gave out, and I slid down to sit on the kitchen floor, my back against the cabinet, the glass of water forgotten beside me.
The tenderness in Derek's voice when he spoke to Jasmine had broken something inside me. Some last fragile hope that maybe, someday, he might speak to me that way. That he might tease me, laugh with me, promise to always look out for me.
But he never would. I'd been fooling myself, clinging to the scraps of attention he threw my way—the occasional night he stayed home, the mechanical intimacy we shared in the darkness. I'd mistaken proximity for connection, obligation for affection.
And now there was a baby. A child who would bind me to Derek even more permanently, who would give him another reason to resent me.