Page 46 of A Wife's Duty

“Yes, I do.”

“Then why don’t you use me?” Lucia asked.

“Use you?”

“Yeah, like a real husband uses his wife, and then goes and gets a mistress and treats her better. Isn’t that what men do? Women are useful to provide an heir, isn’t that what you want?” She rested her head against his shoulder. “I don’t want to be that way.”

“What way?”

“Where I’m afraid that you want to have sex with me. Where you go to someone else who gives you real pleasure.” She sighed. “That’s what my dad does. Mom has the kids, and other women get the nicer side of dad, or I assume they do. I don’t want to be married like that. I want what they have in the movies and in books, where they’re still together and loving each other years later. Where they’re not cheating and having sex with other people. Do you want that?”

Boone held onto her.

“I don’t even know what you want,” Lucia said. “This is a game to you, and I am just a pawn in your moving chess game.” She sighed and he felt her body getting heavy.

Picking her up in his arms, he left the dance floor and carried his wife up to the office. He didn’t expect her to react this way, otherwise he would have had her first drinking experience at the apartment.

Laying her down on the sofa, she was already passed out.

“You’re not just a pawn, Lucia. You’re my queen.”

Chapter Nine

“Two glasses?” Lucia asked, lifting her head up from the toilet.

She felt so gross.

“Two glasses.”

She looked at Boone and then felt her stomach roll over, and she groaned, immediately putting her face into the toilet and vomiting everything she had. Another moan left her.

“I’m pathetic.”

“You’re not.”

“Who passes out and then vomits on two glasses of scotch?” It was pitiful. “I thought most people were supposed to have like dozens and dozens of glasses of tequila or scotch, or vodka.” She groaned. “The movies got this all wrong.”

“You’re not used to it, is all.”

“I’m never drinking again.” She pouted and then threw up some more.

Boone held her hair out of the way. His office had a small bathroom, which consisted of a toilet and sink. She was still dressed in the clothes she went to dinner in yesterday.

Just remembering that experience from the previous day, she was ready to have a heart attack. They had gotten through it, but it had been scary.

Boone rubbed her back, and she couldn’t quite remember last night’s conversation. What did she say to him? What did they do? They drank and danced, and then it kind of went fuzzy. She didn’t like not knowing. What if she had made a real fool of herself? There was no way she would be able to live with that.

“I think I’m good,” she said after a couple of minutes. She flushed the toilet, because she didn’t want him to see that.

“I’ve got a toothbrush and paste for you,” Boone said. “Do you think you’ll be ready to leave?”

She nodded.

“I’ll give you a couple of minutes.” And he stepped out of the bathroom, leaving her alone.

Getting to her feet, the world was not spinning, and although she had been sick, her stomach was no longer doing a dance. She glanced at her reflection and winced. The makeup Sandra had so painstakingly put on her was melting off her face.

She grabbed some soap and quickly washed her face, trying to seem normal again. It took her several attempts, and thankfully, the mascara was not waterproof. Once her face was clean and no longer looked like a melting mess, she picked up the toothbrush, squirted some paste on it, and got to work cleaning her teeth. This was starting to help her feel normal. After brushing her teeth, she rinsed her mouth and stepped out. She had run her fingers through her hair.

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