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The Husband Beside Me(43)

By:Evangelene


I had to keep reminding myself he didn’t trust me and didn’t care for me the way I was beginning to care for him. To him our relationship was about control; it was about not losing.

I was on the internet looking at opening up my own business, maybe a small café, when my phone rang. It was an unknown number. Against my better judgment, I picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Yes, hello, I'm Deidra. Daimon’s…aunt and I was wondering if we could meet. I feel bad about the day of your wedding. I wasn’t exactly myself that day and I wouldn’t mind making it up to you.” She sounded so sweet on the phone.

“I'm a bit busy,” I lied, worried where this would lead me.

“It would really mean a lot to me if I could meet you,” she said, making me feel guilty.

“Sure. Tomorrow okay?” I asked, wondering who she was exactly.

“Tomorrow is fine. We’ll meet at the NoMad on 1170 Broadway,” she said happily.

“Okay, see you then.” I braced myself for who I was about to meet.



The hotel was a stunning piece of architecture once you walked in. Its deep colors along with its rich wood and stone made it luxurious and lavish. Entering the beautiful space, I thought for sure those around me would know I wasn’t meant to be there.

“Addie?” A woman’s voice called out to me.

I turned to find a stunning older woman, her hair made up perfectly with her makeup done naturally. She wore a simple dress that sat just below the knee. She was beautiful, all the more when she smiled at me. I could tell it was sweet and caring. But what stopped me cold were her eyes, her sky-blue eyes.

“Ah, Addie, you look so beautiful.” She smiled, making sure she stood a foot away from me.

“Thank you…Deidra,” I said, making sure it was her.

“Yes. I'm sorry I didn’t introduce myself. Silly me. Come, I have a reservation for us upstairs.”

She walked past me, turned and waited until I followed her.

We were seated at a quiet corner. I stared around the room taking in all that was round me. Everything was perfectly designed and placed, seeming flawless and simple.

“You remind me a lot of myself when I was younger,” she said, still smiling at me.

“Why?” I asked.

“I wasn’t born into money. I married it and, well, like you everything seemed new and exciting. I bet Daimon doesn’t even notice. He was born to be his father’s son.” Her voice grew sullen, but she continued to smile.

“It’s different for me to be around such things,” I admitted.

“But it is nice,” she added.

“Yes, it really is nice.”

We ordered our food and sat quietly, not really knowing where to start. I wanted to ask her who she was exactly, but I didn’t want to seem rude. The moment her glass of wine came, she smiled.

“One won’t hurt,” she said as she picked it up and took a sip. “I’m glad my Daimon married you,” she said, putting down her glass. “He deserves to marry for love. Unlike his father who…well, he wanted Daimon to marry for money and power.” She smiled.

“Yes, his father seems…special,” I treaded lightly.

“You met Guilin. He was nice once, but not now.” Her happy disposition changed as a quiet sadness seeped in. She looked off to the side as though remembering something.

“Deidra?” I said softly.

“Yes, I’m sorry. Memories. Just simple memories.” She smiled and picked up her glass again.

“So, you’re Daimon’s aunt,” I started.

“You can say that.”

“I see he got your eyes,” I offered.

“He did, but he got his looks from his father, and unfortunately, his personality too.”

I looked across and saw the same brokenness I often saw in Daimon. There was no question who she was.

“He can be pretty rough,” I laughed.

“I know and I'm sorry for that. It was my fault,” she smiled sadly.

“I'm sure it wasn’t entirely your fault.”

“I should have been there for him when I could have, but I wasn’t allowed. He was even more upset with me when I came back from California. I heard he was getting married and I left the facilit…I left the hotel I was staying at and headed here. I wanted to see him get married,” her voice cracked. “But enough of the past, let’s talk about you and Daimon. He seems different when you are around,” she noted. I wondered how she knew that, but she did see him at the wedding.

“Really? I hardly see it,” I murmured. That’s why Daimon was angry that night at the wedding. Slowly, everything was taking shape.

“Daimon is different from his father. His father has a hard personality while Daimon’s is mixed. It confuses him, knowing how he should behave. Daimon is…Daimon,” she said quietly.