Page 55 of The Wrong Husband

She shrugged. "Why do you and my parents think that I'm going to not know how to behave in social settings?"

I was taken aback by that question. "I don't think that." But I did. I was worried that she'd dress in a way not suitable for an Archer.

"Yes, you do," she stated sadly. "I'm not clueless. I know how to take care of myself. I know how to dress and how to wear makeup. I choose to be comfortable in my daily life, but I know how to…anyway, look, maybe it's better if we just stay home for dinner."

She'd suddenly gone from joking about Bridget Fucking Jones to looking so forlorn that I wanted to buy her a goddamn puppy or teddy bear.

"What the fuck happened?" I demanded.

"Nothing." She picked up her backpack. "I have to get to the museum."

"You didn't have to quit Archer Galleries, Emilia. We could—"

"Do you have any idea how I've been treated?" she cut in.

I did know but I didn't say anything. How could I when I'd done nothing to prevent it; hell, I hadn't bothered to find out about it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked.

"Every time I came by your office, your EA told me you were busy. And she doesn't like me."

"She's friends with Bianca but I hope she's always been professional with you. If she hasn't, I will get rid of her," I assured Emilia.

She laughed mirthlessly. "How many people will you get rid of, Damian? Archer Galleries treated me horribly. I felt like I was back in high school, and no one wanted me to sit with them at the lunch table."

"That's not the kind of company we are."

"All evidence to the contrary."

"I…don't know what to say?" I was embarrassed that my wife had been treated poorly because she was my wife. Emilia as just Emilia would have been liked. Her skill as an artist, her optimism, her cheerfulness…all of that would've made her a beloved colleague.

"That's exactly the kind of company you are," she accused without heat. "I'll come to your restaurant, if just to prove to you that I'm not some uncouth country bumpkin who doesn't know how to behave in public."

Enough was enough.

I stood in front of her, my hands on her shoulders. "Don't put words in my mouth. You have nothing to prove to me. Remember, I like you just the way you are."

"Please!" She rolled her eyes. "Bridget Jones jokes aside, you think I'm not suited to be Mrs. Archer."

I stroked her cheek. "You're not, Emilia," told her softly. It was true. She was too soft for our world.

She stepped away from me and I saw a world of hurt in her eyes. "I know that. The truth is, I don't want to be Mrs. Archer. I just want to always be me and be liked for who I am."

I didn't know what the hell to say to that. But what I did know was that I had things to fix at Archer Galleries, especially in the art restoration department that drove my sweet Em away.

Chapter 17

Damian

Iasked Devi into my office as soon as I got to work.

She sat across from me. "All okay, Damian?"

"What is your problem with my wife?"

Her eyes snapped up in shock. "What? I…I have no problem."

"Then why is it when she's come to see me, you've told her I'm not available."