“Of course, I would. In a real marriage, I’d want love, and I’d love him. We don’t have that. We will never have that.”
“How about this then? Is there a chance you like me?” he asked.
“No.” She bit on her lip and glanced away as he tensed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know you.”
“But what you do know, you don’t like.”
“I don’t think we should be having this conversation,” she said. This was going from bad to worse. The menu lay open on the table in front of her. “Maybe we should just order.”
Roman didn’t let go of her hand, and even as she tried to avoid his gaze, he still stared at her. She looked around the room, trying to find an excuse to distract him, but she had no choice but to look at him, and he kept on staring at her.
His gaze was so intent.
What was he thinking?
What did he expect? They never spent any time together on the buildup to their wedding. From what people were gossiping about, he’d been with so many different women, and she was just the pitiful bought bride. The one he didn’t want, and that stung a little, which she hated to admit.
****
Alex didn’t like him, and Roman shouldn’t care.
Many people hated him and would pay good money to see him dead. He had never cared what people think of him. Why should he? It was their problem, not his.
When it came to Alex, his forced wife, he couldn’t help but … feel something. He didn’t know what it was exactly. Disappointment? Anger?
Was he angry at his father? At himself?
“Can we order?” Alex asked.
“Yes, of course.” He still didn’t let go of her hands.
“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.”
“You haven’t upset me,” he said. The lie was easy.
“You look upset.”
He lifted his gaze to hers. “Imagine being told that you’re not liked.”
She smiled. “You have told me.”
“Excuse me?”
“When we first went to your apartment in the city. Nearly eight weeks ago now, I think. I’d done or said something, I can’t remember, and you said that you didn’t have to like me, but you were taking me with you.”
Roman vaguely remembered the argument. Alex had wanted to visit her father, and he’d been under strict instructions to keep her by his side. So he had, and because he was annoyed with everything going on, he’d taken it out on her.
“So forgive me for being curious as to why you would want to … you know, attempt to make this bearable.” She pointed down at her menu. “I think I’d like the pasta with the roasted vegetables and garlic bread.”
He let go of her hand to signal the waiter.
Alex escaped, or at least one hand did.
The waiter came, and he told them their orders. He went for his usual when he was there, steak with roasted vegetables and buttery potatoes. It was one of his favorite meals. The waiter took their menus and left.
“I want us to make this work,” he said. “I was an asshole at the beginning. I didn’t know what to do, or what could make a real marriage, and that’s on me. I fucked up, but I won’t do it again.”
“Please, don’t worry about it,” she said. “There was nothing you could do.”