The Gold I Married

Chapter Fifteen

Victor had set his alarm for six, an hour he hated, but he hated the alternative more.

He woke in darkness with the couch pressing into his spine, pulled on yesterday's wrinkled clothes, and went to the bathroom. He let the shower run longer than necessary, standing under the noise rather than the water, until steam clouded the mirror and softened the edges of the room.

When he came back, his hair was still wet, his shirt damp at the collar. He stood over Anna longer than he should have.

"Miss Anna," he said quietly. "You should wake up."

She stirred, then startled, her eyes opening too quickly, finding him too close. For a moment there was something unguarded in her face. Then it was gone.

"Victor." Her voice was rough with sleep. "What time is it?"

"Six. Everyone's still asleep. You should go before they wake up."

She sat up, the blanket slipping to her waist, and ran a hand through her hair, the motion automatic. "Yes. You're right."

She found her shoes without looking, slipped them on, and crossed the room. Her hand was already on the door when she stopped.

She turned back.

He hadn't moved.

She closed the distance between them in two steps and pressed a brief kiss to his forehead. Her lips were dry, her breath faint with last night, but the gesture was careful, almost absent-minded.

"You're the best son anyone could ask for," she said.

Then she left, the door closing softly behind her.

Victor remained where he was. After a moment, he lifted his hand and touched his forehead, as if to check that the feeling had been real.

He did not move for a long time.

~

Anna closed her bedroom door and leaned against it, her breathing still uneven from the stairs. The room was dark.

She pushed away from the door and crossed to the bed.

The lights came on.

Alex was already sitting up, already watching. The sudden brightness made her flinch.

"I texted you last night," he said. His voice was quiet, controlled. "You didn't reply. Where were you?"

Anna slipped off her shoes, let her dress fall, and reached for the silk robe hanging by the door. "That is none of your business."

"Don't take my son to a place like that again."

She paused with her hand on the bedpost, then let it fall. She got into bed, pulled the covers up, and closed her eyes.

She didn't turn away. She simply withdrew.

Alex watched her. There was a faint line beneath her eye, dark against her skin. Mascara.

He didn't need to imagine where she had been.

Two hours earlier, he had been in the private lounge on the third floor of his club, watching the monitors fed from the ceiling cameras. He had watched Anna move through the crowd as if the room adjusted itself around her. He had watched her drink too quickly, laugh too easily, disappear into bodies without hesitation.

He had seen the man come up behind her, hands settling at her waist.

Alex had tightened his grip on his glass, the crystal pressing back. He had already measured the distance to the stairs, the time it would take to reach them.

Before he could move, Victor had reached her first.

He had pushed through the crowd and placed himself between them with a force Alex had not expected. There had been words—too far to hear—but the stranger's hands lifted, backing away. Anna had swayed slightly, then leaned into Victor as though he were something steady.

Alex had set his glass down and left through the staff exit. By the time they returned, he was already home, sitting in the dark, waiting.

Now he lay back, the room dim again, listening to her breathing.

He knew she wasn't asleep.

He didn't speak. Neither did she.

The distance between them remained, unchanged, filling the space more completely than anything either of them could have said.