The Stranger's Wife | Rewritten

15 ⁓ Right Now, With You

= Amelia =

It was one thing to imagine him with other women, and something else entirely to see them in the flesh, their lust blatantly displayed in front of my face.

One thing was clear: Willem had no shortage of women in his life.

It was a rude awakening, but my mind needed to do the math.

Coming in at the number one spot was I'm-his-mistress Jessie, followed by we-had-an-arrangement Tessa in second place. And now I had the amazing opportunity to meet the illicit I'm-so-glad-you-invited-me-to-Anguilla Xiomara.

Willem didn't seem to have a type, but all the women appeared to have one thing in common. They all believed they had some kind of rights to him and their blatant jealousy could cut through metal like a laser.

Xiomara's statement echoed through my mind.

Wife? You never told me you were married.

A heavy silence descended upon the room like a dark fart — the kind that originated from deep inside one's gut.

I stared at Willem, waiting for a response to Xiomara's question.

"I'm married now," he said as a matter of fact, "and that's all you need to know."

"When did this happen?" Xiomara sat down on one of the tall chairs at the bar and crossed her legs. She eyed me from head to toe, measuring me like she was a seamstress about to register my sizes.

"It's a long story, Xiomara," Willem supplied.

"Okay," she said shaking her finger at him, "but you and I have a lot to talk about."

I raised an eyebrow and stared at Willem some more. His metal grey eyes met mine and he didn't look uncomfortable in the least. Instead, a small smile curved the attractive corners of his mouth.

Why, oh why, did he had to be this handsome?

Focus. Focus!

Good looks be damn if he turned out to be a complete asshole.

He turned to face Xiomara once more. "No, we don't," he said, and for a second I forgot what they were talking about.

I believed Xiomara wanted to talk to him about me?

"Where is Francois?" he continued. "I need him to make arrangements for dinner tonight."

Xiomara fumbled with a pack of cigarettes that she'd taken out from somewhere in her cleavage. "Francois went grocery shopping. He'll be back in a moment." 

Her hand shook nervously as she took a single cigarette from the pack. Please tell me she wasn't about to light one up in the kitchen, I pondered.

"Dammit," Xiomara cursed, crushing the unlit cigarette in the middle of her palm.

"Are you okay?" I asked, approaching the counter, but still keeping my distance in case her claws came out to play.

I liked my face a lot and wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. The last time Willem brought one of his women around me, she wanted to fight with me as if we were a couple of high schoolers.

Xiomara forced a smile in my direction, avoiding Willem's gaze as she did so. She wiped at her eyes, drying visible tears. "I'm not supposed to be smoking, trying to quit." 

"Congratulations," Willem muttered, the lack of interest in his voice evident. Was he acting uninterested because I was here?

His phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket, a frown marring his features as he stared at the screen.