Page 71 of The Wrong Husband
Moana had been in full stylist mode, holding up dresses and accessories to Emilia’s slender frame. I watched in amusement because every time Em saw the designer label, she gasped.
"I can't wear a Giambattista Valli dress."
"I can't walk in those shoes…are they Jim Choo's?"
"I won't take that bag. I know how much Chanel costs. I'll be scared to lose it."
The loot had been my doing though Moana had lied to Emilia that it was her friend who worked at a fashion magazine. The buyer at Nieman had put together a combination of five dresses, ten pairs of shoes and eight bags to choose from.
The buyer had asked me about jewelry, but I said I'd take care of that. I had. I'd gone to my parents' house and gotten some of my grandmother's baubles that I had inherited.
“This one,” Moana finally declared, draping a midnight blue gown over Emilia. It was elegant and simple, enhancing her natural beauty while still allowing her to look like herself. "And no, you can't look at the label."
"It's a very expensive dress, isn't it?" Emilia worried her lower lip.
"Shut up and wear it, bitch." Moana threw the dress on the bed. "Now get naked."
Emilia turned to look at me.
"I'm enjoying the show. You should keep doing what you're doing."
"This is hard enough, Damian, without you hanging around," Moana admonished. "Get out."
I raised both my hands, palms out in a peace offering. "Fine. I'll get ready in the bathroom."
By combining two lofts, Emilia and I had created a genuinely comfortable space.
Em had fought me at every step of the renovation, and I'd been careful about the hills I wanted to die on. The bathroom had to be bigger, the rest I could compromise on.
However, once she soaked in the bathtub before, during, and after sex, she stopped complaining about it.
I needed more storage space than her tiny wooden closet could provide. A wall of closets would allow me to live here without worrying about running out of underwear. She hadn't minded the office because she understood I needed the space. It was a simple partition that didn't reach the exposed ceiling. She had not complained about Liza taking care of the cleaning; and the outsourcing of the laundry.
As I put on my bowtie, I thought about how much my life had changed in the past months since I married Emilia. Her life had altered completely but so had mine. I liked this new life.
But I was also aware that nothing between Emilia and me was resolved, and our relationship felt, at times, like I was walking a tightrope. But tonight, I was going to enjoy my wife. I was going to dance with her and indulge in the way she made me feel fresh, invincible, and happy.
Emilia was ready by the time I was. She looked at herself in the antique mirror I had placed in our bedroom because there was nothing more erotic than watching Emilia watch herself when we made love.
She stole my breath. The dress accentuated her body. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of nerves and excitement. Moana had done a phenomenal job.
“Beautiful,” I murmured, and Emilia blushed, looking away shyly. "Don't move," I instructed.
I went to my office and got my grandma's velvet jewelry box.
She looked suspiciously at the burgundy velvet box when I set it down on the bedside table. "What's that?"
"A fire hose," I deadpanned.
"Ha, ha. Is it very expensive stuff?"
I opened the box to reveal a set of earrings and a necklace, glittering with diamonds.
“I have no idea what these cost,” I explained. “They belonged to my grandmother.”
"They're family heirlooms. That means they're priceless, Damian." She looked completely devastated.
"Girl, wear the damned diamonds," Moana exclaimed. "Shit! Why can't I be married to you, Damian? I'd take full advantage of all your money."