And so I bought the tuxedo, because I could. Because I knew he would appreciate the craftsmanship, the perfection more than anyone. Because he genuinely deserved it more than most and I wanted him to have one thing of his own that he could call art. And because very soon, it might be the last chance I ever had to afford something like this for him, and I wanted him to feel like the work of art I knew him to be.
“Oh, Matthew, you look…” I genuinely couldn’t get the words out. “Matthew, you look incredible.”
He nodded his head, as if he were tipping an invisible fedora instead of his absurdly thick head of inky dark hair. “Thanks, doll. It was a little weird accepting it, but I have to admit, I don’t feel like as much of a stranger as I did last time.” He slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me close. “And you too, duchess. I mean, wow. You said Jane did a good job, but, Jesus and Mary, Nina. I can barely breathe looking at you.”
His eyes dropped to my lips, and I arched toward him as naturally as breathing.
“We shouldn’t, right?” he murmured.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re inside now. They collect everyone’s devices and so forth at the door.”
“Well, I mostly don’t want to mess up your makeup,” he said. “You really do look like a goddess tonight. Aphrodite herself. Or maybe Helen of Troy.”
“Then I suppose that makes you Paris,” I said coyly. “Fighting to steal another man’s wife, right?”
“The one killed in action? Nah. Tonight, I’m the guy that gets the girl. Happy endings for all.”
He touched his nose to mine, and then we both looked around at the guests filtering around us. Many were actors, musicians, and other people far more recognizable from the tabloids than I was. Their clothes were equally as fantastic. One well-known singer passed by in a completely sheer, skin-colored gown that put nearly every part of her anatomy on display. By her styling, it was clear that she was supposed to resemble a naked Greek statue. I couldn’t decide whether or not she was pulling it off.
“Well,” I said as she passed. “That’s one way to interpret the evening.”
Matthew hadn’t even taken a second look. “I don’t know, baby. She can do what she likes, but if she’s looking for attention, she sort of gave the game away, don’t you think?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’d rather spend the evening wondering what a woman’s got on under her finery, you know?” He drifted a finger over my collarbone, tugging lightly on the silk twisted over my shoulder. “Makes it that much sweeter when I get to unwrap the package.”
His touch heated me to my core as I imagined just how Matthew might unwrap me.
“You need to stop looking at me like that, duchess,” he murmured, though the knowing smirk told me he was quite enjoying it.
“Then you need to stop making such suggestive comments.”
“Never.”
I leaned closer so that our noses were only a hair’s breadth apart. “Promise?”
Matthew’s eyes swept closed, then opened again with a new intensity. “With every bone in my body.”
We stared, caught in each other’s thrall for several long seconds. It occurred to me then that this might truly never disappear. Matthew and I had known each other for well over a year now. True, we had never come to that place where the mundane, everyday facts of life threatened to overtake passion. But there was a spark between us that wouldn’t ever really fade, no matter how many events we attended, how many mornings we were blessed to wake up together. The ember it came from was too hot. A fire everlasting.
“Come on, doll,” Matthew said as he pulled at his collar, looking as though it were physically painful not to kiss me. “You promised me a dance or ten.”
“Um, all right,” I said. “But I need to use the powder room first. I’ll meet you at our table?”
“Sounds good. I’ll get us some drinks.”
Matthew took off, blending perfectly into a crowd of couture and some of the most avant-garde fashion in the world. I sighed, and once I had lost sight of him, turned the corner to find the bathroom. But when I reemerged, I ran directly into the last person I wanted to see tonight. Or ever.
My husband.
“Whoa!” Calvin neighed like he was actually the horse he sounded like he was directing, steadying himself by grabbing and nearly knocking over one of the posts demarcating where guests could and could not go.
“Calvin? What are you doing here?”
I hadn’t seen him this close for so long, and he looked quite different. He hadn’t lost weight exactly, but everything about him seemed to have sagged in the last several months so that his tuxedo billowed a bit, as though it had been tailored for another body. His skin, always with a sheen of sweat, now looked pallid and blotchy, the red tip of his nose having spread to other parts. His eyes also had the same glaze as the nights when he would turn to me in a bourbon-soaked rage.
I shied toward the wall. “You need to go. You shouldn’t be here.”
“Oh, princess. Is that what you think?” he said. “Live somewhere else and you can just tell me what to do? I have some things to say to you. And I’m not leaving until you listen.”
I scowled, but glanced nervously at the other guests, who were looking at us curiously.
“Please,” I asked, trying for a bit more courtesy and ignoring the pounding of my heart. Every single part of me was screaming run. “I promise. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Ha. I’ve heard that before,” Calvin sneered.
I looked around for a security guard or one of the personnel, but then my phone buzzed with a text.
Matthew: You coming? I’m about to go in.
I swallowed. Oh, dear. What would Matthew do
