Tess glanced my way, her face undecided. She was like me. She hated strung-out arguments and unresolved issues. We needed to talk about this—a lot sooner than I’d wanted but fucking Frederick had ruined the moment.

“What’s your deal, mon ami?” I snarled. “We need some time. We have no intention of going shopping when this hasn’t been discussed—”

Frederick stormed toward me, braving his life to touch my arm. “I think topics such as these should wait until you’re at home, don’t you?” Lowering his voice, so Tess couldn’t hear, he added, “Besides, you’re not entirely sure yet. Give it a few more days, Q. Then you can rage all you want.”

Fuck.

He had a point.

I still didn’t have my head on straight. If I opened this topic with Tess now, who the fuck knew what I would say. I didn’t want to hurt her. And the way my anger swirled like hissing dragons in my blood, I just might.

“Fine.” My voice was a bite.

Angelique visibly relaxed, looping her arm through Tess’s and pulling her from the dining room.

“We’re not through with this, Q.” Tess fought against Angelique’s propulsion “I want to know what you’re hiding from me.”

Gritting my teeth, I did my utmost to keep my voice neutral. “We’ll talk about it when we get home.”

“Home or here…it doesn’t stop what I saw.” Rebellion and fight—the same strength that I made her promise over and over to never let me break—blazed bright in her eyes. “I saw, Q. I know what the other charity was. But you’re wrong about me being able to figure out how it attributed to your behaviour the past few months. I said I’d give you time, but you’re quickly running out of it.”

Shit.

Before I could reply, Angelique gave me an apologetic smile and stole my wife from the room.

“HE’S NOT VERY good on a lead.” I forced my voice to be light and fun-filled but nothing could switch the stagnant air between Q and me. Not even the stumbling puppy currently chewing on his leash by my feet.

Damn Frederick and Angelique for interfering.

If they’d stayed away for just another few seconds, Q would’ve admitted what he’d been hiding. I was sure of it. He would’ve had no choice but to spit it out. His temper wouldn’t have permitted it any other way.

We would’ve fought verbally. Hell, maybe even physically, and then we would’ve made up. We would've spent the entire day in bed, striping each other of our defenses. We would’ve hurt and healed together.

Instead of this farce.

Why is he so afraid?

Damn man not willing to talk.

I knew him as well as I knew myself, but I wasn’t a mind reader.

Suzette and Franco strode ahead, their hands interlocked as they browsed quaint tourist shops and cafes. The cobblestones reminded me of the village where Franco had chased me after I’d escaped and called Brax. But the air of relaxed charm did nothing to tame Q as he stalked beside me.

Frederick did his best to change the mood, chatting quietly to Q about work matters and things that failed to take his mind off whatever he brooded about.

Angelique gave me more than one smile, holding thousands of questions and no resolutions. Did she have any idea what was going on with my husband? Did Frederick talk to her about whatever Q had said in confidence?

And how damn unfair was it that Frederick knew more about Q’s issue than I did?

I’m his wife, dangnamit.

My finger itched beneath my wedding ring, agreeing with that fact. I wanted to wrench off my rings and shove my newly tattooed digit under Q’s nose. I wanted to scoop the still unnamed puppy off the street and hit Q over the head with the squirmy tiny body.

Not that I’d ever hurt such a cute creature that way.

I would use much more acceptable devices to punish my husband.

If anyone needed strapping down and hitting, it was him. Purely for driving me mental with worry and confusion.

“He’ll get better,” Angelique whispered, pacing with me as I left Q to discuss whatever he damn well wanted with Frederick.

Screw him.

If he wasn’t man enough to discuss the mess between us, then fine. Two could play the silent treatment. I was aware I’d just contradicted my previous conclusions about giving him time, but there was only so much I could tolerate before I reached a limit.

Not talking was one of those limits.

“Oh, he’ll get better all right.” I glared at Angelique. “When we get home, he won’t have a choice.”

My friend patted my shoulder. “It won’t be anything you can’t overcome together.”

Really?

I wasn’t so sure. I knew Q. I knew when he sank into his thoughts and twisted himself into hundreds of knots trying to do the right thing. Doing his best at killing himself to be something he wasn’t. When he got like that, nothing could reach him. The last time, he’d sent me back to Australia after the best sexual experience of my life.

If he tries to push me away again…

I stopped those thoughts immediately.

I couldn’t contemplate that. Anger was much better at keeping the uncertainty and pain at bay. The pain of knowing today was the last day of our stolen vacation, and tomorrow, we’d all travel back to reinsert ourselves into life. And it’d been ruined.

Q would return to work, even though he promised me he’d cut back his hours, and I would continue to be the figurehead for our charities and run the household. He’d use the long hours to keep his issues buried until I blew up at him and we had a fight that rattled the windows of our home.