Chapter 130: Old Wives

He looked down at her.

It was the most honest way he knew to let her know that he was utterly smitten with her.

"You didn’t love any of your ex-wives after her?" Naomi asked.

Dorian shook his head. "No. I told you... Margot and I were basically thrown together. With Camille, we were more like housemates than husband and wife. I was about to make partner, my uncle kept questioning my responsibility and stability, and at the time, getting married felt like the easiest way to shut everyone up."

"The point is, I don’t want you getting the wrong idea tomorrow if something happens that I can’t control."

"And you genuinely have no idea what it is you do that Margot considered misbehaviour?"

"Yes," Dorian answered honestly.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "So you’re basically warning me in advance that you might act strange, but you have no clue what strange looks like."

"That is unfortunately accurate."

Naomi considered that. "How about I just smack you in the head when I notice you misbehaving?"

Dorian’s brows went up. "That would be too obvious."

"Smack you in the ass?"

His eyes narrowed. "Trouble?"

"Just offering solutions."

"I’m sure you’d enjoy testing the theory."

"Possibly."

Dorian shook his head, but the tension in his shoulders had eased a little.

She stepped closer. "Dorian, you don’t have to worry about me." She meant that.

Whatever happened tomorrow, whatever history existed between him and Lillian, Naomi understood that she was walking into a part of his life that had existed long before her.

She wasn’t foolish enough to expect all of it to suddenly disappear because they were sleeping together. "I understand that there are things in your life that you still have to deal with," she continued. "And I cannot get my feelings hurt over that. But what I can help you do is maybe... identify the problem, if there is any problem to identify."

Dorian nodded slowly.

That made sense. Maybe tomorrow, with Naomi beside him, he would finally see it clearly enough to understand what Margot had meant all those years ago.

"Alright," he said. He glanced toward the stairs. "You want to head to bed? I’ll call in the cleaning crew in the morning."

Naomi frowned. "But no one will be home. You said you have some interviews to do and I will be going to the stylist’s to get ready."

"Why? Why can’t she just come here to take care of you?" Dorian asked.

Naomi gave him a look. "It costs more. I chose the cheaper option. Your sister already made me buy an outfit that pays my rent for three months. Oh my God... speaking of rent... I haven’t checked up on Tessa this weekend. She’s been staying at the apartment and she’s by herself." She was already moving. "I need to call her."

And just like that, she rushed away.

Dorian watched her disappear. "Crazy woman..." He sighed and pulled his phone from his pocket.

This was exactly the sort of situation Adrian would have handled without requiring Dorian to think about it.

Dorian was beginning to miss him badly. He called Ginny first.

That earned him ten minutes of questions, followed by another five minutes of her laughing. Eventually, Ginny gave him the stylist’s number.

Within minutes, the schedule had been adjusted.

The stylist would come to the townhouse instead.

He ended the call and looked at his phone. "Chose the cheaper option," he muttered, repeating her words. "Crazy woman." He shook his head and started downstairs. He moved through the house, checking each floor as he went.

By the time he reached the guest floor, irritation was creeping in again. This ridiculous, oversized house that had once seemed like the perfect solution to being left alone.

Now he spent half his life looking for his wife inside it.

He was starting to understand exactly how badly that plan had backfired. "Naomi?!" he called.

"In here!" Her voice came from the bedroom.

The door was open.

He stepped inside and found her there. He was already preparing to tell her that she no longer had to go anywhere tomorrow, that the stylist would come to her instead and that the so-called cheaper option had officially been overruled. He barely got the chance.

Naomi turned toward him. "I think Tessa is back with Jordan,"

he wasn’t sure what response she wanted from him. "Okay?" he said carefully. "Why do you think so?"

"I heard his voice in the background, and she seemed uneasy on the phone." Naomi folded her arms. "I know when Tessa is hiding something from me." She looked worried and hurt.

"Naomi... she may have her reasons for going back. Maybe she wants to give him another chance. Maybe she’s afraid. Maybe she’s thinking beyond herself now."

Naomi nodded slowly.

The pregnancy changed things. She understood that.

"Yeah, maybe." She sat on the edge of the bed. "It would be awkward now, wouldn’t it? Me and Tessa."

"Why?"

Naomi looked up at him like the answer should have been obvious. "I mean, with everything that happened with Jordan... I threatened his job. I told Tessa about the affair." She sighed. "I don’t think he would want me around her anymore."

"You’re overthinking this. You and Tessa are friends. Talk about it and work around it."

She gave him a doubtful look.

He shrugged. "When I found out Daniel was sleeping with my sister, I punched him in the face, talked about it and worked around it." He looked perfectly serious.

"Why do you always make everything sound so simple?"

"Because it can be."

"So why don’t you punch Oliver in the face, talk about it and work around it?"

"Why would I punch him in the face?"

"He is sleeping with your sister."

"Oliver is not my friend."

"He wants to be."

"Oh hell no!"

"Why not?" Naomi asked. "I sleep with Ginny’s brother and she is civil with me. Why can’t you do the same for her?"