They arrived at the East Walker Palace Hotel, just five minutes from Her Majesty’s Stadium, where they would play.

As Alexandre stepped off the bus and entered the hotel, Victoria appeared.

“Oh, darling! I couldn’t resist coming to see you!”

“It’s the best thing that’s happened to me this month,” Alexandre said and thought, I’m so sorry to lie to you.

They sat in the big chairs near the bar. She told him she was staying with friends in London that weekend. Half an hour later, Alexandre was alone in his room.

Victoria had surprised him. She had never shown up without warning. Still, he was glad to see her. Yet something about her seemed off, fragile, subdued, with sadness in her eyes. Disappearing once a month without her knowing where he was had become hard for her. He loved her and didn’t want to lose her. She had never distrusted him, but lately she seemed uncertain.

He remembered the kiss Francisca had given him at Villa Ascolassi, and forced himself to forget it.

Then came another thought: Victoria, how much longer can you endure this? He wished he could tell her the truth.

But Francisca returned to his mind. They were both accomplices in writing Ronald’s book, and that meant deceiving Victoria, didn’t it?

I am not lying. I am protecting on her! he thought. But don’t you want to sleep with her? Liar! She has you spellbound! Confess it! He scolded himself as he recalled Francisca climbing out of the pool. And who wouldn’t want to? She’s the most seductive woman I’ve ever seen! Yes, I’m a liar, so what? I have to be, to protect Victoria.

But seeing her so weakened broke his heart.

He knew there were still several meetings. He could only hope Victoria would hold on. He didn’t want to lose her, but finishing and publishing the book came first, whatever the cost.

Then clarity struck him: What are you saying? Wake up! It’s not ‘this or that’. It is ‘this and that!’

I’ll marry her as soon as possible! he decided.