He never said he loved her.

Not that she had ever asked. Althea had come close on several occasions…the night he proposed, the day before their wedding, after their first child was born, etc, etc, but just as she would open her mouth that pesky lump would block her throat. Then there was no hope of her even expelling a breath, never mind asking such a complicated question.

Deep down, she was scared to ask him. Actually, petrified was more like it. It wasn't the answer that frightened her…Althea knew he would say yes…but would he mean it? Would his eyes light up the same way they did when he looked at their son and heir, or when he road his favorite broom (A Viper 360 – only 12 existed in the world)…

Would he get that slightly maniacal gleam in his eye that she noticed when he closed a big deal at work or put someone out of business? Or would they be flat and lifeless, like he was staring at something boring and couldn't care whether it was here or there?

Oh, why was she even thinking about this? Cassius was a dutiful husband. He worked hard, made good money, provided a beautiful home, and never complained when she overspent on her allowance. He didn't gamble, womanize, smoke, and certainly, had never raised a hand to her. He only drank at social occasions (single malt scotch – only the best for him) and had sex with her every Sunday morning like clockwork, always giving her an orgasm.

So what more did she want? It wasn't as if those words had to be said…it wasn't as if they would even make a difference. No matter what, she would still go on being Mrs. Cassius Warrington. She would oversee the estate, pay the servants, audit the account books, and preside over the dinner parties and other social events they held/attended. She would continue to give him more children and make sure they were well mannered and educated.

She would just be.