Am I guilty? I don’t think I am

"Mrs Gulf, meet my good friend and business partner, Henry Miller."

Good friend? Business partner? How had I not known this? Then again, I didn't know any of Christian's friends. And we never really talk much about anything personal.

"Was he at our wedding?" I asked, still trying to wrap my head around this situation; Their unexpected bromance.

I don't think I saw Henry at our wedding. But I was so out of it that day that even if I had seen him, I wouldn't have possibly recognized him now. 

Wait. What's his excuse for not recognizing me?

"No. I was out of town." He explained to me. Looking at Christian who had taken his seat opposite me, he said, "We uh, we already met."

Christian's eyes flicked to me questioningly. 

That's when I remembered that Henry's face had actually been blurred out in all those photos. No wonder Christian had failed to recognize that he was the man from the tabloids. 

Even though this was an acceptable explanation, it made no sense to me. Christian should have known. 

Maybe he didn't care enough to want to know who the man I'd been accused of cheating with was.

"Uhm, yeah. Henry and I already met." I said, my voice small. 

For some stupid reason I felt… guilty. Which was absurd because I hadn't done anything to be guilty of. It's not like I was having an affair with Henry. Neither were we flirting secretly. 

Okay, so maybe we'd talked a few times in the last three months. He'd been the perfect gentleman, and though he said some strangely ambiguous things, he never crossed any lines. And neither did I. Blushing a few times and enjoying someone's phone company wasn't a crime. It definitely should not be construed as cheating. 

I needed a shoulder, and he had been there when Christian hadn't. That was all there was to it. Besides, we hadn't seen each other since that night.

No harm, no foul, right?

"I'm her side piece." Henry winked, a smirk on his face.

The teasing tone in his voice was unmistakable, but so was the way his gaze lingered on mine, as if he wanted me to play along.

I felt anxious. Despite myself, I smiled back at him.

My smile fell instantly when Christian spoke. 

"So you're the mystery man." 

He didn't seem to appreciate the joke, still, he played along. His lips spread with a smile, the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes, and the way he looked at me, his eyes boring into my soul, I could feel his wrath. Not to mention the way his fingers curled ever so slightly around the edge of the table.

But why would Christian be angry? I hadn't done anything inappropriate. His anger just didn't make any sense. 

"How have you been, Mrs Gulf." Henry mimicked the way Christian had earlier introduced me, and my lips tugged, forcing me to smile. He had an irresistible charm to him. Little wonder he was able to make me forget my worries on most days.

"Good. You?"

"What can I say? It's been boring ever since I stopped being your love interest."

Maybe Christian didn't realize, but he was frowning now. I looked at him, my brows raised in an attempt to ask if he was good. 

He didn't answer, rather his face contorted into a smile, and then he looked away from me.

"So what would you like to eat?"

"You're taking our order?" Henry and I shared a look, a very innocent one. I found myself drawn to the way he smiled at me. The gentleness in his eyes when he stared at me. 

"He runs the place." Christian said, his voice breaking whatever trance I'd been in with Henry.

"You do?" I asked in surprise. "But… but you said you know the owner."

"I do. I'm him." He winked at me. "And your lovely husband here. He's bankrolling the entire thing."

I looked at Christian whose attention was on the menu. He behaved as if our conversation was none of his business.

"You own this place?"

"I own a lot of things, Alora. You should know that. You're my wife." I clearly heard the possessiveness in the last three words. His sultry tone had failed to hide it. Or maybe that was his intention all along.

I began to feel hot. Christian's gaze was fixed on me now, and he refused to look away. My body felt like it was on fire. I took the jug of water on the table, poured some into a glass and gulped all of it in one go. I was about to pour more water in my glass when Henry's hand brushed mine. I flinched, pulling my hand away.

"Sorry. I was just going to pour it for you."

My eyes instinctively rushed to Christian's own. Despite the warm atmosphere, I felt chills. Christian watched the exchange with smugness on his face, and something else in his eyes. Something dangerous.

It couldn't be. Christian Gulf, jealous?

Because of me?

There was no way. We'd talked about this a few months ago. I was a contract wife, nothing more, nothing less.

Henry excused himself to attend to another table, leaving me and Christian alone in our tension.

Christian raised his hand and called for a waiter who immediately came. 

"We'll have the herb crusted roast chicken with mashed potatoes, and the grilled salmon with lemon butter. And a bottle of your best wine."

Once again Christian amazed me. It was like he knew all of these things about me. And I knew almost nothing about him, except for the things he chose to show me.

"How do you know?" I said, my voice almost inaudible. Christian had heard though.

"You'll have to be clearer than that, Alora."

"How do you know what I like to eat? Last time you ordered Chinese for me. That's my comfort food. Of course, you already knew that. How do you know?"

"It's my job to know. I'm your husband, remember?"

How could I forget? 

He never let me. 

Every chance he got, he made sure to remind me that I was his. As if he didn't want me to forget that he owned me for the next five years. 

Mrs Gulf.

What once made my stomach flip with excitement, now made me feel… trapped. 

"What? You don't like it?"

Now he needed to be less ambiguous with his words.

"What?" I asked.

"You're frowning. You don't want to be married to me? Why?" He leaned forward, his lips spread out, his voice almost teasing, almost, "so you can flirt with Henry without feeling guilty?"

My stomach twisted.

I frowned.