That look. It's all it takes to tell me that he knows...and that everything is over between us. He says nothing, just walks from the door of our hotel room, takes up the spare key and his wallet then leaves again. No words. Nothing.
I swallow, glance down first at myself, bare chest hidden only by the light sheet that covers the bed, and then at the smirking figure beside me. All I wanted was his attention...for him to look at me the way that he did when we first met two years ago. I guess my father was right. He told me that I would eventually feel something for the man he chose for me, that love was a thing you learnt to do rather than something that you knew from the start. Perhaps I do love him now...
But why is it so different when I play his games? How many times have I had to watch my husband smile and embrace other women, go to them instead of me? I mean...we've both had affairs before, so why is it different this time? Because he doesn't have a mistress, or because he hates this man?
"Stop it"
"What?"
"You're thinking about your husband rather than me." The self centred grin appears on Freddie's lips once again, reminding me so much of Anatoly. That was the only reason it was him...not because they're rivals or because I want him more than my husband, but because he's like an echo of the man I love.
"He just walked away..." I still can't believe he didn't even say anything...
"So? He'll get over it." One hand gently but firmly pulls me back in against him. "My Florence is meeting him up in the mountains – a good exchange I'd say, eh?"
And now, how on Earth do I win Anatoly back? I sigh and curl back up to Freddie, hiding my face in his chest and making him just one more man that will never get to see the real me.