It belongs to you." He pulled a velvet box from his pocket and opened it. The 'Joana' was nestled inside. "| bought it back." He took the necklace out and fastened it around her neck again, his touch feeling like a brand. "It's yours. It will always be yours." Joana looked at her reflection in the darkened window, the brilliant diamond mocking her. She let out a dry, bitter laugh. He was a magnificent actor. Truly, the performance of a lifetime. ---- That night, as they lay in bed, his other phone buzzed on the nightstand. He quickly silenced it, patting her back soothingly. "Just spam." It buzzed again. And again. He finally answered, his voice tight with irritation. "What?" The voice on the other end was boisterous. It was one of his friends, inviting him out. "Come on, man! The party at my villa is just getting started. Everyone's here!" "| can't," Darius said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Joana's trying to sleep." "Don't be so whipped!" his friend laughed. "You haven't come out with us since you got married. Don't forget your old friends!" Darius covered the receiver. "My wife is the most important thing to me," he hissed into the phone. The friends on the other end took turns trying to persuade him, their voices a drunken chorus. "Just go," Joana said, her voice muffled by the pillow. "I'm awake anyway." He looked at her, a flicker of something-guilt? annoyance?-in his eyes. "Only if you come with me." His friends on the phone cheered, begging her to join them. Reluctantly, she agreed. Only then did Darius finally relent. ---- They arrived at a lavish private villa overlooking the ocean. Music spilled out from the open floor-to-ceiling windows. The room was filled with his friends, and each man was draped with one or two models in designer dresses or bikinis by the infinity pool. Darius's face darkened. He turned to leave, pulling her with him. "We're going." "Wait, Darius!" his friends shouted, scrambling to their feet and pushing the women away. "Our mistake! We forgot Joana was coming! We'll clear the room!" After the women were ushered out to the terrace, the atmosphere shifted. His friends threw their arms around his shoulders, laughing. "Man, you really are one of a kind," one of them teased. "No other woman can get within three feet of you except Joana." Darius brushed him off with a look of disdain. "A married man should give his wife a sense of security," he declared, his voice ringing with self-righteousness. The room erupted in laughter. For the rest of the night, Darius's attention was solely on her. He intercepted a glass of whiskey a friend tried to hand him, saying she didn't like the taste on his breath. He had the host switch the loud electronic dance music to a softer jazz playlist, saying she preferred quiet. He meticulously prepared a small plate of appetizers for her from the buffet, cutting a piece of prosciutto with practiced ease. When a cool breeze blew in ---- from the ocean, he draped his jacket over her shoulders. "Are you still cold?" His friends hooted and hollered. "Look at him! The perfect husband!" The performance was suffocating.