Delmonico’s was one of those restaurants that exuded old-world charm, the kind of place where waiters wore crisp white jackets and called you “sir” or “madam” with just the right mix of deference and familiarity. It was a place where deals were made over steak and wine, where the city’s power brokers gathered to dine and discuss matters that would define the future. Matthew Bennet fit right in.
He arrived exactly on time, as he always did, his punctuality as precise as everything else about him. Claire was already seated at their usual table by the window, her blonde hair glowing under the dim lights. She looked up and smiled as he approached, a smile that radiated warmth and affection. It was a smile that made other men jealous, a smile that said, I’m happy, I’m loved.
Matthew leaned down and planted a kiss on Claire’s cheek, a gesture that appeared tender but was, in reality, a calculated choice. Every move, every word, every touch—a gesture that had been practiced a thousand times. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, though he wasn’t.
“You’re not late,” Claire replied, her voice as gentle as her smile. “Right on time, as always.”
She looked gorgeous tonight, dressed in an elegant yet simple black dress that hugged her figure in all the right places. Matthew had chosen that dress for her, knowing it would draw just the right amount of attention without being ostentatious. Claire had always trusted his taste, a trust that he had nurtured carefully over their nearly 12 years of marriage.
Matthew took his seat across from Claire and signaled the waiter, who appeared almost instantly. “A bottle of the Pinot Noir, please,” Matthew requested. He knew Claire loved that wine, and he found it palatable enough. It was another small gesture, another way to maintain the illusion.
As they waited for the wine, Claire reached across the table and took Matthew’s hand. Her touch was warm, but he felt nothing. He squeezed her hand in return, mimicking the emotions he knew she wanted to see. “How was your day?” she asked.
“Busy,” he replied, giving her the standard answer he knew would suffice. “Had a few meetings with clients, a few conference calls, nothing of note, really.” He was careful to keep his tone neutral, professional—just enough to give her the sense she was a part of his world without it becoming reality.
Claire nodded, her eyes filled with the admiration she had always had for him. For his part, Matthew had trouble understanding her infatuation with this completely normal, boring lawyer. “You work so hard. I don’t understand how you do it.”
Matthew smiled the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s for us. Everything I do is for us.”
The wine arrived, and the waiter poured them each a glass. Claire raised hers in a toast. “To us,” she said, her voice full of sincerity.
“To us,” Matthew echoed, clinking his glass against hers. He took a sip, the wine smooth and rich on his tongue. He allowed himself to enjoy it, but his mind was elsewhere, analyzing, calculating.
As they began their meal, Matthew eating a perfectly pan-seared New York strip steak, in between bites into a 6-rack of ribs Claire informed Matthew of her day. Claire worked at a non-profit, the kind of place where the genuinely good-hearted go to both help the community and, if unknowingly, add a good-looking job to the resumé. Claire was planning a charity event. Matthew listened, nodding in the right places, asking questions that made him seem engaged. He had mastered the art of conversation, a delicate balance between speaking and listening, between showing interest and remaining distant.
But beneath the surface, Matthew wasn’t listening, not any more than he had to, anyway. He was just watching. He was always assessing. Claire was an open book, an easy read, her emotions clear on her face. He was everything she was not, and that made her both the perfect partner and an easy target.
It wasn’t that Matthew didn’t care about Claire, or that he was using her for his personal gain. In his own way, he genuinely cared for Claire. She was a valuable asset, someone who completed the image Matthew had carefully crafted of himself. She made him look like a devoted husband, the man with a heart. But love? No, love was something he never truly felt, something he only understood in theory. As Matthew had read, “Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.” While scientifically, Aristotle’s description of love was something no one could physically achieve, Matthew understood the Greek philosopher’s intended meaning.
While perhaps he felt he inhabited Claire’s body simply because he knew so much about her, there was always a different feeling in Matthew. Something he couldn’t quite describe. Was it love? Surely not, for Matthew was incapable, but nevertheless, that feeling was ever present, in the back of his mind, eating at him. Matthew hated the unknown, for the unknown is uncontrollable; and this was unknown.
As the evening wore on, their hearty meal dwindling, Matthew noticed a slight change in Claire’s demeanor. She was quieter, more thoughtful, her eyes occasionally drifting away to gaze upon the nothingness that inhabited the outside. The change was subtle, but Matthew was trained to notice such things. He leaned in slightly forward, took Claire’s hand, and asked, mustering a tone that was concerned but too much so, “Is everything okay?”
Claire blinked, as if her soul was reentering her body. She looked at him with a soft smile. “Yes, everything’s fine,” she assured. Despite her assurance, there was a hesitation in her voice that didn’t go unnoticed.
“Are you sure?” Matthew pressed, the concern in his voice genuine—at least to Claire.
She smiled, but was a little sad, and perhaps a little tired. “I’ve just been thinking, that’s all. About us. About the future.”
“The future?” Matthew repeated, his interest piqued. He hadn’t anticipated this. Claire was usually so content—so predictable.
She nodded, setting down her fork and pulling her hands back into her lap. “Matthew, we’ve been married nearly 12 years now. And I love our life together, I really do. But… I feel like there’s something missing.”
Matthew felt a flicker of irritation deep inside. It wasn’t irritation at Claire, or so he thought; it was more of an irritation at himself. How could he have let this slip? He had dedicated these last 12 years of his life to developing the best, most idyllic marriage with Claire that he could, and there was something missing?
“I want to start a family, Matthew; I want us to have a child.”
The words hung in the air between them, and for a moment, Matthew didn’t respond. Matthew hadn’t expected this, hadn’t planned for it. The idea of a child was… complicated. A child would disrupt the careful balance he had created. It would introduce variables he couldn’t control.
But as he looked at Claire, he saw hope and vulnerability in her eyes. He knew he couldn’t say no. Not outright, not without raising suspicion.
He reached across the table and took her hand again, his expression softening. “Claire, honey, I understand. I really do. But you know how demanding my job is right now. I want to make sure we’re in the right place, financially and emotionally, before we make that step.”
Claire’s shoulders slumped slightly, and she nodded. “I know… I just… I don’t want to wait too long.”
Matthew squeezed her hand gently. “We won’t. I promise. Let’s give it a little bit more time, and we’ll talk about it again, okay?” As for how much time Matthew meant, he hoped it would be eternity.
Claire smiled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Okay, I trust you. You know that.”
“I know that,” he said, his voice as smooth as the wine they were drinking. “And I promise you, when the time is right, we’ll have everything we’ve ever wanted.”
Claire’s smile widened, reaching her eyes. She seemed to relax, the tension in her shoulders easing. They finished their meal in relative silence, the conversation shifting to lighter topics. Matthew kept the smile on his face, the smoothness in his voice, but inside, his mind was working in panic mode.
A child. It was a complication he hadn’t anticipated. How could he have been so stupid? Develop a loving relationship with a healthy, fertile woman, and she will naturally want to have a child. As much as the irritation Matthew had felt brewed inside of him, steamed like a boiling pot of water, he would handle it. He would handle it just as he would handle everything else. He would find a way to give Claire everything she wanted—in his time, on his terms.
As they left the restaurant and stepped out into the cool night air, Claire slipped her arm through his and leaned into him. “I love you,” she whispered, her once glistening eyes now staring up at Matthew’s with a love and affection he hoped she saw in return.
“I love you too,” he replied, the words rolling off his tongue with practiced ease.
But as they walked down the street together, Matthew Bennet’s mind was already working on the next step, the next move in the game he knew only he was playing. For now, the mask stayed firmly in place, but behind it, a sentimental sociopath was already planning his next move.
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