A good mother always put her child first, but Dionisia was not a good mother. She was good at pretending to be, and although she loved her son, she struggled to bond with him in the way she'd once envisioned a mother should bond with her child. Perhaps it because he was a bastard, and she was afraid that he would one day grow to look like his father—his biological father—instead of either of them. Perhaps she resented him for forcing her to marry a man who deserved so much better than a sham marriage.
Ari didn't love her. (Well, that wasn't right. He loved her in a way nobody had ever loved her before: not romantically, but more than family. They had a partnership built around their shared love for little Elliott, even if Dionisia struggled to understand how a man could take so easily to raising a child who wasn't his own.) He'd never wanted to be with her, though, at least in that way.
She wasn't sure if he wanted him that way either.
Ari was handsome and he was kind. He was everything she'd once imagine she wanted in a husband—if she was ever to marry. It was only the circumstances of their marriage that prevented her from harboring romantic feelings for him. She didn't deserve his love. She didn't deserve him in her life at all. But there he was, standing in front of her on the landing, minutes after putting their—her—son to bed for the night while she was still dressed in her work uniform.
She smiled at him and opened her mouth to bid him goodnight, but was taken aback by his sudden beckoning. What did he mean, "make the most of it"? He couldn't possibly... no. Ari didn't want her, nor had he ever wanted her before. Not like that. Of course, from a realistic perspective, he couldn't have been thinking of anything else, could he? He was her husband, whether they'd intended to marry or not. There were no other women in his life from her knowledge, and simply because they hadn't consummated their marriage before didn't mean they never would.
Her stomach twisted with discomfort, and yet she felt compelled to follow him, if only to figure out what he meant. She entered the door behind him, her brows having unconsciously furrowed with confusion.
"I suppose we haven't had much time for it, have we?" she said, because it was the only thing she could say without turning bright pink.
Ari didn't love her. (Well, that wasn't right. He loved her in a way nobody had ever loved her before: not romantically, but more than family. They had a partnership built around their shared love for little Elliott, even if Dionisia struggled to understand how a man could take so easily to raising a child who wasn't his own.) He'd never wanted to be with her, though, at least in that way.
She wasn't sure if he wanted him that way either.
Ari was handsome and he was kind. He was everything she'd once imagine she wanted in a husband—if she was ever to marry. It was only the circumstances of their marriage that prevented her from harboring romantic feelings for him. She didn't deserve his love. She didn't deserve him in her life at all. But there he was, standing in front of her on the landing, minutes after putting their—her—son to bed for the night while she was still dressed in her work uniform.
She smiled at him and opened her mouth to bid him goodnight, but was taken aback by his sudden beckoning. What did he mean, "make the most of it"? He couldn't possibly... no. Ari didn't want her, nor had he ever wanted her before. Not like that. Of course, from a realistic perspective, he couldn't have been thinking of anything else, could he? He was her husband, whether they'd intended to marry or not. There were no other women in his life from her knowledge, and simply because they hadn't consummated their marriage before didn't mean they never would.
Her stomach twisted with discomfort, and yet she felt compelled to follow him, if only to figure out what he meant. She entered the door behind him, her brows having unconsciously furrowed with confusion.
"I suppose we haven't had much time for it, have we?" she said, because it was the only thing she could say without turning bright pink.
