The Transient Wife

Chapter 22

They remembered everything and they were still conscious and coherent but nobody would let them go home alone. After that first dance, they danced another one and joined their families. At first, Philip tried to stop her from taking a glass of wine but she promised she wouldn't drink more than two so he said yes. Cassandra remembered promising Mary to help Chanty with baby Willie's so-called WALKING PARTY and she also recalled Henry telling them he'd take them home in his car and that Philip could go back for his car the next day. Philip refused the offer but his friend insisted among others.

Henry Bell drove them home because they were both tipsy by the time the party was over despite Cassandra's incessant denial of having Henry Bell within a five-meter radius.

When they were finally home alone, they decided to have one last glass of wine. Philip looked at her as he handed her the wine and said, "You promised to tell me about your incredibly mysterious past."

She smiled and answered, "I know."

"Let's go to the balcony," and he then led her upstairs. She didn't know which balcony he was talking about but followed him anyway. She stopped in her tracks when he opened his bedroom door. His room was the other part of the house that she had never invaded.

"We're going inside your room," she stated without a question.

He frowned, "Why?" and when he saw her expression, he smiled naughtily and added, "We're not going to do what you have in mind..."

"I don't have anything in mind, you pervert. Just...okay, let's go have that talk and get this over with." She walked past him and entered his room and swept it with a glance. As expected, it was all manly and neat and dull. The sheets were dark gray—all of it, the furniture all black, and the walls plain and white. A man of his wealth should get a better interior designer, really.

Cassandra heard his chuckle as she strode inside and half-ran towards the glass door across the room that led to the balcony. "You said that out loud," he explained and she groaned. "You seem tense," he pointed out as he joined her outside.

"Shut up," she snapped, resting her elbows at the wood railing of the balcony, looked over and pointed, "Your view here is not great."

"I like it."

Really, it was not that great. It overlooked the street—no great view there. "What's to like watching the street and passing cars?"

"Cass," his gentle voice said behind her. Cassandra looked over her shoulder and saw that he was fixing her with a knowing look as he stood there leaning against the glass sliding door holding his wine glass. He knew she was stalling.

Whether she liked it or not, she thought she should tell him. She didn't want him to appear stupid in front of other people not knowing about Dennis or her past. And it might make him tell her something about the secret he was keeping with her father, the real reason why she was here in the first place.

Give and take, right? She'd tell him her secret and he'd tell her his.

She let out a breath, thinking where to start, and a long silence reigned between them for a long time. Funny how they get along with silence, she thought in passing.

Finally, she opened her mouth and said, "Two years ago, I was ready to walk down the aisle to get married."

He looked at her with a blank expression on his face and uttered, "Dennis?"

"How—" she stopped herself when she remembered he overheard Dennis' name during her phone conversation with Harrison on their honeymoon. "Yes," she answered. "He's Harrison's best friend." She took her glass to her lips and gulped down some wine. This was harder than she thought. She turned around to face Philip, leaned her back against the balcony and took a deep breath. "Dennis..." she played with her glass and watched the dark liquid move in a circle, "Dennis called off the wedding a day before we could say I do."