I took a swig of my drink, clearing it. “I mean, what kind of man does something like that? Would you do something like that?” I could hear my speech slurring a little. The scotch was working.
“I know that the correct answer to that question is no, never.” He looked at me with wide, innocent eyes like he wasn’t in the casino himself. It made me laugh. I got up to pour myself another drink. I was buzzed. I didn’t feel wobbly on my feet yet, but I was definitely no longer sober. It felt good to talk about my husband. Maybe talking to someone else besides the guy who had won me in a bet would’ve been preferable, but so far, he was a good listener. He wasn’t that bad to look at either.
That was the booze talking but I liked what I was hearing. I was in a stranger’s suite after my husband lost me in a bet. We were past the point of things making sense anymore.
“I didn't even want to marry him,” I blurted out.
“Oh really?” he asked. I shrugged. I had never really said it out loud before but yeah, it was true.
“I didn't pick him. We never really dated or anything. We were matched. My family picked him. He was the honorable choice. He’s from a good family, whatever the hell that means. He’s a Baron and that got them. An eligible bachelor, hadn't been married before and was looking for a wife himself. Can you believe that? I'm married to this guy because he was ready to be married and he matches all my family requirements.”
“I can believe that,” he said. I raised an eyebrow.
“How so?”
“We'
re in the same boat, love. Well, sort of. My family has been breathing down my neck about finding the right girl to marry since before I could walk.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s an aristocratic twat,” he said, rolling his eyes. “They care about things like that.”
“Obviously we’re not in the same boat since you're not married. Unless?”
He smiled, taking a drink of his scotch. “No, I'm not married. I wouldn't be putting wagers on other people's wives if I was married.”
The joke was kind of dark but I laughed.
“I bet your family would recoil in horror they knew I was here now.”
“They would, but I don't really care what they think. I'm the only person who has to be pleased with my life choices. If I followed what they wanted for me, I'd just end up like them. Repressed, held down by centuries of traditions that don't make sense anymore.”
I went up and sat down next to him. “That's admirable in a weird way.”
“Not many people call it admirable. Usually, I get selfish, foolish, disrespectful.”
“Well, yeah it's all those things too, but it can be admirable at the same time.”
He laughed. “The way I see it, they're asking me to live by rules that were written before I showed up, which I never had a chance to agree to. I didn't ask for them to be my parents. I didn't ask to be born into this family, and just because I was, doesn't mean that I can't be who I am. I'm not responsible for their legacy. The only person I'm responsible for is me.”
“That's an interesting philosophy.”
He shrugged. “That's just how I try to do things. I figure that as long as I'm not hurting anybody, then I should be allowed to do it.”
“It must have been hard standing up to your family like that,” I said, partly thinking out loud. We had similar backgrounds. I knew that I never could have stood up to my family the way he had. That was why I was in this current situation in the first place. They would have disowned me or worse but from here, I was curious what truly could be worse than what was happening now.
“Yeah, well they don't like it but there isn’t anything they can do about it, is there?” His arm went up and went around the back of the sofa, resting on my shoulders. My body inched closer to his.
I didn't hate this. I didn't hate this at all. It was kind of nice and getting better by the second.
“You know,” I started to say, but then I trailed off because his hand started making the little shapes on my shoulder. It trailed up the skin and took a light grip on my neck. I had the vague thought to ask him to stop but then what if he actually did?
“What?” he asked. What indeed. What was I doing? What was I thinking? I wasn't thinking. I was allowing myself to feel, and right then, I felt good. I felt comfortable. I felt betrayed by my husband, but comforted by this... this stranger, even though he didn't feel like one anymore.
I wanted him. Like, wanted him. A discovery like that should have made me feel guilt but it didn’t.
Why not?