Alexander's fiancé Hannah Solice was no idiot. She knew that Alexander was utterly incapable of any emotion and she was relatively fine with that. However, the desperately pained look on his face felt like a punch to the gut.

Alexander Remington had every number in his phone saved with the contacts name, the company, and what he thought of them, in case he forgot. However, there was one contact that had no name.

No name, just a number.

Which meant he knew exactly who it was, he would never need to be reminded. And for several years that number never called. Until today.

She'd walked in to him saying goodbye to her. Audrey. That was the elusive name. She sat down next to him. He offered her a small smile, patting her leg. She kissed his neck, but he looked away, unseeing at his phone.

Hannah pulled away, silently crossing her legs. She licked her lips. She thought Alexander was incapable of an expression like that. That was her solace with the whole situation. That it wasn't that he couldn't love her—he couldn't love at all. But now, it didn't seem that was true.

"Who is Audrey?" She whispered.

Alexander looked at his wife-to-be. She was the opposite of his Audrey, he'd done that on purpose. He shook his head, standing.

"No one," he muttered, walking away.

But suddenly, Hannah remembered the only card he'd keep. Cheap, generic cards, with one name, that he always stashed away. Audrey. Now that she thought about it, that name just kept popping up. But who was she? Childhood friend?

Hannah followed him. "Are you cheating on me?" She asked.

Alexander heaved a sigh. "No."

"It's fine, if you are," Hannah insisted. "But I need to know, so I can get tested. You should wear a condom too—"

Alexander found he had a pattern, since Audrey. He turned around, and put his hands on Hannah's shoulders. Hannah was an heiress to a...less than desirable family. He'd taken her out of her family, giving her protection from them in his home and under his name.

"I would never do that to you," he assured her, pulling her into a hug. "It's okay. I told you I'd treat you well didn't I?"

Hannah nodded numbly. The main difference between the two women, he thought, was not their appearance. Hannah was of the mentality that the ones she cared about could do whatever they wanted to.

No matter how much it hurt her. A belief instilled in her by her parents. He patted her back.

"You should never allow that," he lifted her face. "Okay? You take me for all I'm worth."

Hannah nodded hesitantly. "But...you love her."

Alexander paused and furrowed his brow. "What is with that question today? You, the reporters, A—" he paused before shaking his head. "I don't love anyone! I don't love anyone. But you and I are friends Hannah. We have an agreement."

He stroked her head. She smiled, enjoying his soft encouraging touch.

"So don't worry." He kissed her forehead, walking away. "I'm heading back into the office. Should I pick up take out on me way back?"

Hannah shook her head and watched him leave with a small wave. And then she went to the house phone. She had an excellent memory. Photographic in fact. Her fingers caressed the numbers, but she never dialed. She didn't want to know who was on the other line. She was sheltered, and somewhat naive, but Hannah was a 35 year old woman. She knew better than to assume he was telling her the truth.

He loved this woman. And she didn't want to have to face that. Would she be arrogant. She dialed the number and the line rung. Before she could hang up she heard a woman's voice on the phone.

"Audrey Williams speaking?" She said softly.

Hannah was silent, simply breathing on the phone. So she didn't know the house phone number.

"Hello?" Audrey tried again.

Hannah swallowed and hung up, replaying her voice in her mind. It was raspy, sexy. Not like hers. She sounded a little younger too.

Hannah sighed, closing her eyes. It was time for her to start getting her affairs together then, wasn't it? She didn't imagine Alexander would be apart from her any longer, not after they spoke. He was in love with that woman. Who was she?

What manner of woman was she? Was she a Misty memory, or something more tangible? Something he could go back to. And who was Hannah? A placeholder for her until she was ready? What was he waiting for? Didn't he understand his kindness was a cruelty? There was nothing after it, like a bottomless pit that unsuspecting women just kept falling into.

Hannah poured herself a glass of wine glancing at the time. 12pm. She poured orange juice in it and called it a mimosa to excuse the day drinking. She just needed something warm for the moment.

Something warmer than his smile, color than his steel gray eyes, and darker than the void of his soul.

Alexander was gone as she looked around the empty home he'd bought. He'd refused to let her move into his other place. Something about bad memories. She wondered if they were actually memories of her.

Of Audrey.

Jealousy threatened to consume her. How dare he love another after he'd sworn he wouldn't—couldn't love her. Hannah murmured to herself and shook her head in dismay. Such was the predicament of a wife. Tolerating her husbands infidelities in favor of a position, a title.

It didn't matter who his heart belonged to. It only mattered who the house belonged to, the cars, the money, the name.

And his name would be hers. As long as everything went according to plan. And she thought that as it was, it would. As long as she didn't interfere with him and Audrey, he would give her his name and his precious Audrey would get the scraps.

His love and affection sure.

But not a dime—not a morsel more.

That, Hannah Solice understood, was the role of a wife.