For the first week, anger helped him endure it.
He told himself she had been unfair.
He told himself she understood what the marriage was when she entered it.
He told himself protection was a kind of care.
He told himself the mansion, the jewelry, the cars, and the security represented responsibilities he had fulfilled.
Then he opened the closet one night and saw everything she had left.
That argument died there.
The gowns remained.
The shoes remained.
The diamonds remained.
The black card remained.
Her wedding ring remained.
Naomi had walked away with two sweaters, jeans, a book, a locket, and a passport.
Whatever Dominic had provided, it had not been the thing she needed.
He sat on the ottoman where her suitcase had rested.
For perhaps the first time in his adult life, Dominic asked himself a question without immediately looking for someone else to blame.
What had she needed?
The answer came in fragments.
A chair pulled out for her when there were no cameras.
A question asked because he wanted to hear the answer.
A husband who noticed when she stopped speaking.
A home in which she did not need servants to prove she existed.
Several weeks passed before Naomi contacted him.
It was not a dramatic call.
His private phone rang one evening while he stood in the library.
He answered on the first ring.
“Naomi.”
A pause.
“You knew it was me?”
“No one else has this number and makes me afraid to answer it.”
She was quiet.
Months earlier he would have filled that silence with authority.
Now he waited.
“My father called me,” she said.
Dominic’s expression hardened.
“What did he want?”
“For me to go back.”
“Because of the families.”
“Yes.”
Dominic looked toward the dark window.
“What do you want?”
The question sounded almost unnatural in his mouth.
Naomi noticed.
“You never asked me that before.”
“I know.”
Another pause.
“I don’t know yet,” she admitted.
“Then don’t come back yet.”
Naomi said nothing.
Dominic continued before his courage disappeared.
“Do not come back because your father wants it.
Do not come back because my family wants it.
Do not come back because anyone says the marriage needs to survive.”
“Dominic—”
“If you ever walk through that door again, I need to know you chose it.”
Her voice softened, but only slightly.
