He tried to look into those deep blue eyes, digging deep to find something, anything. Once they had held him, seduced him by their sea and sky. Her eyes alone could have won anything they desired from him. But now none of that; all he could see were the images at the end of his surprise trip to their home. Where there was perfection, was now shattered ruin.
Watching her, without hearing what she was saying, he realised how easy it would be to give in to temptation, to put his hands around her porcelain neck. Surely there would have to be some pleasure to see her wince in pain and those deceitful eyes plead with him? Or…he stopped himself. What had a psychologist once said to him? Something along the lines of, ‘we all have psychopathic tendencies, with the only difference being everyone else is able to control them and a psychopath is not.’ Of course he could not do it here, in public, but maybe later at home in private.’ Angry with himself for having such terrible thoughts he knocked the sugar bowl over and thousands of crystals spilled onto their table.
“Where are you today, sweetheart?” Emily put one hand on his.
He pulled his away and caught her raised eyebrows. Quickly he reached for his coffee. He would not stoop to public confrontation. That was not how he had been raised, to air his dirty laundry in public, particularly not in what had become their favourite café over the last six months. Many a coffee had been had here to plan for their most special day. Today had been arranged to go over last minute details.........
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