Chapter 17: Meeting The Press

*Alistair*

Alistair could visually see the sadness in his wife’s eyes as they left the villa. Daphne had hugged Angela goodbye and promised to come back soon, hopefully for a longer stay next time.

The two boarded the private jet and took their seats, facing one another. Marco handled their bags and let them know they were ready for take off. Meanwhile, Daphne poured her teary, emerald gaze out the window.

Alistair reached across the small table that sat between them and took cheek in his hand. His thumb brushed along the edge of her chin.

“I’m sorry to take you from this place, dove.”

She batted her eyelashes, blinking back the tears that dotted the corners of her eyes. Her cheeks blushed a pinkish hue.

“I knew that it wouldn’t last forever,” she said sheepishly. “Thank you for taking me here, Alistair.”