He turned away from her, satisfaction pouring through him. Whatever it was that she was going through—whatever it was that they were going through—he hadn’t made up their attraction. And that attraction had come from their feelings for one another.
Perhaps he’d made one too many mistakes with Rosa. Heaven knew he had with his mother, so it might not have been different with his wife. But at least he could make sure Rosa didn’t forget that they were drawn to one another. Something neither of them had ever been able to deny.
And then what? an inner voice asked as he poured their drinks. Would they just become hyperaware of their attraction, since their feelings were seemingly out of bounds, and then let it fizzle out between them?
There was no way that was happening. And if they acted on it...what would that mean for him? For them? Would she just walk away from him again? Would he just let her go?
An uncomfortable feeling stirred in his stomach and he walked back to her, setting her glass down on the table to avoid any more touching. He had no idea what he wanted to achieve with her. With his marriage. And he’d never thought he would be in the position to have to worry about it.
He’d thought he’d done everything right in his life. He’d looked after a mother who hadn’t cared about looking after herself. About looking after him. He’d got a stable job. Succeeded in it. He’d fallen in love—though it had been unplanned—and he’d married.
And still everything had gone wrong.
Though, if he was being honest with himself, perhaps that had started when his mother had been diagnosed with cancer and he’d realised the extent of his mistakes.
Now, the fear that had grown in the past four months pulsed in his chest. Had him facing the fact that everyone in his life who was supposed to love him had left him. His mother. His father. And now Rosa...
He couldn’t deny that he was the problem any more.
‘SO, WHAT HAVE you been doing these last four months?’
Somehow, she managed to keep her tone innocent. As if she wasn’t asking because she desperately wanted a glimpse into the life he’d made without her.
It was veering into dangerous territory, that question, and yet it was the safest thing Rosa could think to ask. Something mundane. Something that didn’t have anything to do with what they’d been talking about before.
Feelings. Emotions. Their relationship.
But the expression on his face told her that perhaps the question wasn’t as safe as she’d thought. Still, he answered her.
‘Work.’
‘Work?’ When he didn’t offer more, she pressed. ‘What about work? New clients?’
‘New clients.’
She bit back a sigh. ‘And?’
‘We’re expanding.’
‘Oh.’
Expanding? He’d never spoken about the desire to expand before. His law firm was one of the most prestigious family practices in Gauteng. He had wealthy clientele, made sure his firm helped those in need, and he’d always spoken about how content he’d been. Proud, even. So why was he expanding?
She waited for him to offer an explanation. He didn’t. And she didn’t have the courage to ask him. Not when she would have known if she’d just stayed.
‘You?’
Her gaze sprang to his. She hadn’t expected him to engage. ‘I’ve been working on a new line. Evening gowns.’
‘Like the one you’re wearing.’
‘Exactly like the one I’m wearing. For women like me.’
His eyes swept over her, heating her body with the faint desire she saw on his face. He was controlling it well, she thought. He never had before. She’d always known when Aaron desired her. It would start with a look in his eyes—much more ardent than what she saw there now—and then he’d say something seductive and follow his words with actions.
She’d loved those times. Loved how unapologetic they had been. How freeing. And since they both had problems with being free—no matter how much she pretended that she didn’t—those moments were special.
And now she’d lost them.
‘It’ll be popular.’
‘I hope so.’ She paused. ‘I did a sample line. I’ve been promoting it on the website for the past month, and it’s got some great feedback. I might even do a showcase.’
‘I told you it would be great.’
‘You did.’
Neither of them mentioned that for years he’d been telling her that she needed to make clothes for herself. For others like her. But that wasn’t why she’d got into fashion. At least, not at first. She loved colours, patterns, prints. She loved how bold they could be, or how understated. She loved the contrast of them—the lines, the shapes.
She hadn’t wanted to confine herself when she’d started out. She’d wanted to experiment, to explore, to learn about everything. And, because she had, she now had momentum after being labelled a fresh and exciting young designer. Enough that she could finally design the clothes she wanted to. For women who looked like her. Who were bigger. Who weren’t conventionally curvy.
She’d shared all her worries, her fears, her excitement with Aaron. And she wanted nothing more than to tell him about the challenges, the joys she’d had creating this new line now.
But the brokenness between them didn’t lend itself to that discussion.
Her heart sank and her eyes slid closed.
How had her safe question led to this?
* * *
Watching her was going to be the only way he’d figure out what was going on in her head. It was clear she wasn’t going to tell him. And, since he hadn’t exactly been forthcoming himself, he could hardly ask her what was causing the turmoil on her face.
But he couldn’t be forthcoming. How was he supposed to tell her that his expansion plans had started the moment his mother had informed him of where Rosa was? He hadn’t been interested in finding her...at least, that was what he’d told himself. But then he’d received Liana’s email telling him Rosa was in Cape Town.
And suddenly he was planning to expand his firm to Cape Town.
How was he supposed to tell her all that?
‘Oh, look,’ she said softly, her gaze shifting to behind him. The pain had subsided from her face—had been replaced by wonder—tempting him to keep looking at her.
Dutifully—though reluctantly—he followed her gaze and saw that she was watching the rain. He didn’t know what she found so fascinating about it. Sure, it was coming down hard, fast and every now and then a flash of lightning would streak through it. But still, it looked like rain to him. Regular old rain.
And yet when he looked back to Rosa’s face he could have sworn she had just seen the first real unicorn.
She got up and walked in her beautiful gown to the glass doors, laying a hand on them as though somehow that would allow her to touch the rain. It was surprisingly tender, but he refuted that description almost immediately. What he was witnessing wasn’t tender. How could his wife watching the rain be tender?
But he couldn’t get the word out of his mind