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bathroom where she violently threw up the meagre portion she had had for breakfast.
    After she was done she rinsed her mouth and headed back to the bedroom and crawled into the centre of the huge bed, where she sat with her knees drawn up to her chest and her face buried in her hands. She was hurting too much to even cry and was shaking so badly that her teeth were chattering. She didn’t know what to do or where to turn. She needed to get out of this situation, as far away from both of them as she possibly could. Possible solutions and scenarios kept marching their way through her traumatised mind but nothing viable presented itself. There was still Sandro’s threat against Lisa’s business to consider, she also had no real money of her own and she knew that with their considerable resources her father and husband would find her before she could get very far.
    She was still mulling it over when a soft knock sounded on the bedroom door. It swung open before she could respond and her big, dark, beautiful husband stood framed in the doorway. His eyes swept over her small, dishevelled form as she sat in the middle of the bed, her knees still drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her folded legs.
    “You’ve been in here for nearly three hours, Theresa,” he said in a quiet voice. It was the kind of voice one would use when talking to an unbroken, high-strung horse. Three hours ? Theresa hadn’t realised that it had been that long and when she moved, her muscles screamed in protest. She had actually been sitting in one position for nearly that long. She gingerly and with visible effort stretched her arms and legs, trying not to wince in agony as her blood started circulating more freely.
    “I didn’t realise,” she murmured, pushing her long hair out of her eyes. “I was going to visit Lisa.”
    “Why?” He asked sharply and she shrugged.
    “Something to do,” was her casual response.
    “I thought…” He hesitated and Theresa’s eyes snapped up to his face in surprise, the hesitation was so unusual in her supremely confident husband. “I thought we could have lunch together… go out somewhere. We haven’t done that in a while.”
    “Try never,” she half-laughed incredulously and his brows beetled slightly.
    “Of course we have…” he began.
    “Once,” she nodded. “About a month before we were married. I remember that once quite vividly because I felt like a heroine in my own personal fairytale. The giddy, foolish, not-quite-so-fair maiden having a meal with her dark, broody, oh-so-handsome prince who couldn’t be bothered to string together two sentences the entire time and checked his watch every five minutes like he had someplace much more important to be. But of course, I didn’t care, that was just the way you were and I ‘loved’…” she sneered the word. “…you anyway. We never went out again after that.”
    “Of course we did,” despite his assertion, he looked remarkably uncomfortable; he shifted his shoulders restlessly and shoved his hands into his jean pockets.
    “Those other times were official work-related dinners, the ones you have to take your wife to.” He frowned even more but chose not to respond to her statement.
    “Well, then I’d say it’s about time we went out together don’t you?” He asked in an artificially cheerful voice and Theresa slanted her head as she tried to read his expression. As usual he was giving nothing away. Her lips tilted slightly in a cynical and unamused smile.
    “I don’t think so, Sandro,” she shook her head. “I think I’ll go to my cousin’s place like I’d originally planned.” He nodded thoughtfully, swaying back and forth on his heels in an uncharacteristically restless manner.
    “Suit yourself,” he shrugged. “What time were you planning to leave?”
    “Soon.”
    “Right,” he shrugged again looking strangely awkward. “See you later then.” She nodded and he turned away and left without saying