The Mélendez Forgotten Marriage Read Free Page A

position.
    Javier squeezed her hand with the gentlest of pressure but even so she felt the latent strength leashed there. ‘I realise all this must be a terrible shock. There was no easy way of telling you.’
    Emelia blinked away her tears, her throat feeling so dry she could barely swallow the fist-sized wad ofsadness there. As if he had read her mind, he released her hand and pulled the bed table closer, before pouring her a glass of water and handing it to her.
    â€˜Here,’ he said, holding the glass for her as if she were a small child. ‘Drink this. It will make you feel better.’
    Emelia was convinced nothing was ever going to make her feel better. How was a sip of water going to bring back her oldest friend? She frowned as she pushed the glass away once she had taken a token sip. ‘I don’t understand…’ She raised her eyes to Javier’s ink-black gaze. ‘Why was I in London if I am supposedly married and living with you in…in Seville, did you say?’
    His eyes moved away from hers as he set the water glass back on the table. ‘Seville, yes,’ he said. ‘A few kilometres out. That is where I…where we live.’
    Emelia heard the way he corrected himself and wondered if that was some sort of clue. She looked at his left hand and saw the gold band of a wedding ring nestled amongst the sprinkling of dark hairs of his long tanned finger. She felt another roller coaster dip inside her stomach and doing her best to ignore it, looked back up at him. ‘If we are married as you say, then where are my rings?’ she asked.
    He reached inside his trouser pocket and took out two rings. She held her breath as he picked up her hand, slipping each of the rings on with ease. She looked at the brilliance of the princess cut diamond engagement ring and the matching wedding band with its glittering array of sparkling diamonds set right around the band. Surely something so beautiful, so incredibly expensive would trigger some sort of memory in her brain?
    Nothing.
    Nada.
    Emelia raised her eyes back to his. ‘So…I was in London…alone?’
    His eyes were like shuttered windows. ‘I was away on business in Moscow,’ he said. ‘I travel there a lot. You had travelled to London to…to shop.’
    There it was again, she thought. A slight pause before he chose his words. ‘Why didn’t I go to Moscow with you?’ she asked, frowning.
    It was a moment before he answered. Emelia couldn’t help feeling he was holding something back from her, something important.
    â€˜You did not always travel with me on my trips, particularly the foreign ones,’ he finally answered. ‘You preferred to spend time at home or in London. The shops were more familiar and you didn’t have to worry about the language.’
    Emelia bit her lip, her fingers plucking again at the sheet covering her. ‘That’s strange…I hate shopping. I can never find the right size and I don’t like being pressured by the sales assistants.’
    He didn’t answer. He just stood there looking down at her with that expressionless face, making Emelia feel as if she had stepped into someone else’s life, not her own. If she was deeply in love with him she would have gone with him, surely? What sort of wife was she to go off shopping—an activity she normally loathed—in another country instead of being by his side? It certainly didn’t sound very devoted of her. More disturbing, it sounded a little bit like something her mother would have done while she was still alive.
    After a long moment she forced herself to meet his gaze once more. ‘Um…I know this might seem astrange question but—’ she quickly licked her lips for courage before she continued ‘—were we…happily married?’
    The question seemed to hang suspended in the air for a very long time.
    Emelia’s head began to ache