Half an hour after I broke down in tears, I was wrapped in a velvet robe, lying across the velvet chaise in my private dressing room while Lila brought over my comfiest slippers and Carn set up an array of comfort redies like I was recovering from a war wound.
"I’ll warm the lavender eye masks," Lila said solemnly, like she was preparing armor.
"And I’ll fetch the ergency wine bottle. The one we hide behind the sewing kit," Carn added.
I let them. I let them fuss and arrange pillows and light candles that slled like expensive orchards. I let them drag the speaker over and play music low enough not to disturb the rest of the estate, but loud enough to drown my thoughts.
"You think he’ll co knocking?" I asked quietly.
Carn raised an eyebrow. "Would he dare?"
I laughed again. Bittersweet. "I thought he would. I hoped. But no."
Lila pulled a sequin wrap from the closet. "Then we shall entertain ourselves in the anti. Try this one, Señora. You’ll look like revenge dressed in couture."
"Let him knock," Carn said, adjusting the volu. "Let him knock and hear you laughing without him."
They let wallow for five minutes. Only five.
Because then Carn straightened and smoothed my hair back with that fire in her eyes. "No. You will not end this night with tears, mi niña. If the wolf forgets your worth, remind him."
Lila put down the sequin wrap.
"Put this on. We’re doing this. You’re not going to beg for love. You’re going to demand it."
"I..." I was stuttering, my voice small. "What if he doesn’t co back?"
"Then you stand in that doorway in red lace," Carn said, "and you decide when the story changes."
I chuckled. The sting was still there. But their strength... it was contagious. I stood. Lila handed the thong and my silk robe. Carn handed a little perfu bottle.
"His favorite. Behind the ears. On the thighs."
They began fixing my hair as if I were heading to war.
And in a way, I was. Not to seduce him. But to show him that I was still . And I wasn’t going down quietly.
I closed my eyes and leaned back when they were done. The wine was warm in my belly. The music curled in the air like silk. The pain hadn’t vanished, but it had dulled to sothing quieter. Sothing bearable.
I had just finished a dramatic sigh—one of those long, indulgent ones that sounded like a telenovela death scene when Carn and Lila burst out laughing.
"¡Dios mío, Señora! You sounded like the ghost of a betrayed opera singer," Lila cackled, clutching her side.
I rolled my eyes. "I feel like the ghost of a betrayed opera singer."
"You sound like you’ve been wronged in a three-act tragedy," Carn said, wiping a tear. "All that’s missing is the sword and a violin."
I groaned and threw a pillow at her, missing on purpose. She was already ducking before it even left my hand.
We were ridiculous. Sitting in my dressing room like witches around a cauldron of broken dreams and expensive skincare. Carn had just poured us the third glass of "ergency wine," and Lila had found so honey-covered almonds that she claid were "aphrodisiacal," but honestly tasted like regret.
But it worked. I laughed. I laughed so hard I felt my ribs complain.
And then...
A bang.
It wasn’t a polite knock or a tap. It was a bang at the door. The laughter died in our throats like soone had pressed mute.
Carn and Lila froze. I blinked, heart skipping.
Then the door flew open, slamming against the wall, and in stord the hurricane I’d married.
Axel.
In sweatpants and a tight black shirt, hair tousled like he’d been tearing at it, eyes bloodshot and jaw clenched.
"Is there sothing I should know?" he asked, voice sharp enough to cut bone.
I stood up slowly, wine glass still in hand. "What are you talking about?"
He looked around the room. "What’s so funny that it had you giggling like a schoolgirl at midnight? Who’s here?"
"What?"
"Don’t play innocent," he barked, stepping closer. "Are you with soone?"
WHAT THE HELL?
I stared hard... Like he’d just asked if I was hiding a marching band under my robe.
"I—what?! What?! Are you implying I’m with a man?"
He looked between Carn and Lila as if one of them might be in disguise. Carn crossed her arms. Lila raised an eyebrow so high it almost reached the goddess.
"They’re my maids," I barked, my voice rising, "or did you forget that too?"
He didn’t answer. Just turned to them and said, low and grim, "Leave us."
Lila looked at like she was ready to throw down.
Carn, however, just patted my shoulder, whispered, "If he says anything wicked, scream," and marched out like she was already sharpening a rolling pin.
She whispered it but knew damn well he’d hear her. That was how bold Carn was. Too bold for a maid.
Then it was just Axel and I.
The music was still playing. It was so sad, instruntal version of a romantic ballad—and the candles flickered dramatically, like they too knew we were seconds away from an emotional explosion.
I put the wine glass down, turned, and walked slowly to him.
"Why," I asked, "would you imdiately assu I was with a man?"
He didn’t et my eyes. "Don’t twist my words."
I folded my arms. "I didn’t twist anything. You ca storming in here like so jealous ex, not my husband, and demanded to know if I had company. Male company."
He let out a sharp exhale. "I was speaking from experience."
That stopped cold. Experience he said?
What sort of crazy experience could make a married man accuse his wife of such? What...
... oh wait. I hope it wasn’t what I was currently thinking?
My heart combusted, and not in a romantic way. "What experience, Axel?"
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