Felford’s focus is dazzling and overwhelming. He is ridiculously handsome and part of me cannot believe I’ve had him in my bed. Those incredible lips have been on my body. Those strong, manly hands have…Oh my goodness, I have to rein in this train of thought immediately!

He smiles at me again, takes my hand and leads me out of the shop. He is holding a rather bulging plastic bag in his other hand. Oh my.

“Thank…thank you,” I stammer.

He grins and brandishes the bag. “I get to see you in these, you don’t need to thank me.”

I am completely lost for words. Probably forever. I will likely never regain the power of speech.

“Fancy a coffee?” he asks.

I nod eagerly. Anything he wants. Anything at all. If he wants my heart, I’ll gladly cut it out and offer it to him on a plate. He deserves it.

I take a deep breath. I’m being daft. He is being nice because he doesn’t want me to fall apart. I know this. I can’t let my stupid heart forget it.

He leads me out of the covered mall and into the streets surrounding it. My thoughts are jumbled. My heart confused. There is so much to think about. My feelings. His feelings. The awful thing I have to do.

Damn it. I’d been doing so well at not thinking about that. But now it has broken through all my walls, I can think of nothing else. It is a dark heavy cloud weighing down on me. Engulfing me. And I hate it.

My dark thoughts are scattered and my focus snapped to the here and now as Felford suddenly opens a door for me.

The bell above the door tinkles softly as we step into a cozy little coffee shop on a corner of a quiet street, and despite everything, I can’t help but smile at the welcoming sound. It’s a tiny space, filled with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. Felford squeezes my hand gently, his touch a comforting anchor in the storm of thoughts still lingering and swirling in my mind.

“Two coffees, please,” Felford says to the barista, his voice warm and friendly. “One black, and a caramel latte.”

He is ordering for me? How lovely. And how did he know that I’ve always wanted to try a flavored latte?

The barista nods and starts preparing our drinks, and I glance around the shop, trying to absorb the cheerful atmosphere. There’s a group of university students huddled in a corner, their heads bent over laptops and textbooks. A couple sits by the window, lost in each other’s eyes, oblivious to the world around them. For a moment, I envy their uncomplicated lives, their simple joys.

“Let’s sit over there,” Felford says, nodding toward a small table by a window. We make our way over, and he pulls out a chair for me. I sit down, trying to ignore both the weight pressing down on my chest from my thoughts, and the flutters his kind gesture set flight to in my stomach.

Felford takes his seat across from me, his eyes never leaving my face. “Everything okay, Luci?”

Oh my. The sound of my name on his lips is truly wonderful. I don’t think I will ever tire of it.

I force a smile, hoping it looks more genuine than it feels. “I’m having a lovely day, thank you, my…Drew.”

In truth, this is probably the best day of my life. But I can’t tell him that. He really will think I’m crazy.

The barista brings our drinks, placing them on the table with a smile. Felford thanks her, then turns his attention back to me, his eyes full of concern. But he says nothing.

I take a sip of my latte, and it is the most delicious thing I have ever tasted. But I can’t let him know that either. I need to pretend I’ve had a thousand fancy coffees and sat in a coffee shop a hundred times. I greedily take another sip, and let the sweetness and warmth soothe me, if only for a moment.

“Do you want to leave?” asks Felford.

I shake my head. “No. I mean, of course, if you wish.”

He gives me a soft smile. “No, it’s fine, we can stay.”

And just like that my eyes well up. Why does he have to be so lovely? So kind and attentive. Why does he have to look at me as if he wants me? It is too much. It’s too cruel. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted and I’m going to lose it all.

“Luci, what’s wrong?” His hand reaches out across the table to take mine. His touch is like an anchor. Strengthening. Stabilizing.

“Nothing,” I sniff. “I’m just having such a wonderful day.”

His brow furrows in confusion. “But that’s a good thing?”

“Yes,” I agree hastily.

Suspicion clouds his eyes. Oh gods, he is on to me, but this is a secret he must not uncover. I need a distraction. Something to blame my teariness on.

“Is Katy your lover?” I blurt.

A look of sheer and utter shock crosses his face. “Hell no. I’m gay. Katy? Whatever gave you that idea.”

“She calls you Drew,” I say softly.

“Everyone does, apart from you.”

The words land like a punch to the gut. He has effortlessly slipped into calling me Luci and I haven’t shown him the same respect of calling him by his preferred name. At least, not really. I hastily use it as a replacement for lord husband, but only when I catch myself in time. It doesn’t roll effortlessly off of my lips, and that’s terrible.

“I’m sorry.”

With my free hand, I twirl my coffee cup around in a complete three-sixty. It is much easier to look at my cup than it is to look at him.

“It’s fine,” he says gently. “And just so we are clear, I don’t have any lovers.”

I nod and try to stop myself from blushing. That information pleases me far more than it should.

“A good consort should meet all of his husband’s needs.” I blurt.

He squeezes my hand. “Luci, you are an excellent consort and vessel.”

I look up at him. I must have misheard. I am a terrible consort and an even worse vessel. I’ve caused nothing but drama since the day he married me.

His smartwatch beeps, and he glances at it. His brow furrows, and then he swears softly.

“Anything I can help with?” I ask.

It is the polite thing to say, and heaven knows I need a distraction. And of course, any excuse to steer the conversation on to less turbulent waters is fine by me.

He tears his gaze away from the message on his watch. He looks at me with guilt in his eyes.

“I should have given you access to my calendar, not just the household one,” he says.

Well, yes, he should have. But it is hardly a terrible crime. Certainly not worth the reaction he is giving.

“I’m so sorry, Luci. I completely forgot.”