CHAPTER NINE :The Decision
420 Words
Xavier’s POV
I do not make emotional decisions.
That is something my father drilled into me long before I was old enough to understand it.
Emotion clouds judgment.
Judgment builds empires.
And yet—
I married Anna Santos.
I watch her from across the living room.
She’s standing near the window, barefoot now, her hair down from its wedding structure.
She looks smaller without the emerald dress.
More real.
More uncertain.
She doesn’t know I notice the way she exhales slowly when she thinks no one is watching.
She doesn’t know I saw her tonight—
At the dinner table.
Measured. Tested. Unapologetically steady.
My mother called her Anna.
That was not accidental.
That was approval.
Why I Chose Her
People will assume it was impulse.
It wasn’t.
When she entered my car three weeks ago—
Wet. Shaking. Humiliated.
She didn’t scream. Didn’t curse. Didn’t demand sympathy.
She apologised.
Even then.
That irritated me.
Not because she was weak.
But because someone had taught her she should be small.
I dislike smallness.
Not in stature.
In spirit.
She had strength.
She just buried it.
Family Matters
My father will watch her carefully.
My mother already has.
If they sensed instability, they would have shown it.
They didn’t.
That tells me I was correct.
I don’t need a woman who competes with my authority.
I need one who understands stability.
Anna understands consistency.
Even in pain.
Watching Her Now
She thinks this is temporary.
A contract.
She believes I married her for convenience.
And initially—
That was true.
Family pressure. Board expectations. Stability optics.
But convenience does not explain why I notice:
The way she listens before speaking.
The way she adjusts her posture when uncertain.
The way she looks at my family with respect, not calculation.
Convenience does not explain why I said:
“You’re safe here.”
I don’t say things I don’t mean.
She turns slightly and catches me looking.
“Is there something wrong?” she asks.
Always cautious.
“No.”
I step closer.
Not invading.
Just present.
“You handled dinner well.”
Her eyes widen slightly.
“You were observing?”
“I observe everything.”
She swallows.
That should intimidate her.
Instead, she nods.
“Then you already know I was nervous.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“You didn’t let it control you.”
That matters.
She exhales slowly.
And I realise something inconvenient.
I do not regret this decision.
Not strategically.
Not personally.
And that is… unexpected.
- Writer
