Marissa frowned as Bridget permitted Cyril to speak.  So in this environment, he was not even allowed to speak without her instruction?  She tried to reconcile it with the man she knew.  Cyril was always in control, both at home and at work.  Did he not like that?  He was a powerful man; was it something he sought to change in his life?<br/><br/>She looked at him as he spoke, her emotion written more clearly on her face than she would have liked.  His need to have this woman's approval upset Marissa, and she didn't understand.  Why was Bridget's pleasure more important than her own?  Why hadn't Marissa's happiness come first for him when he chose to come here and cheat on his wife?  It hurt her, and she tamped down the pain and anger as she'd done all evening.  It wasn't water under the bridge, not by a long shot, but it had already happened, and they could move forward or they could end things.  In the end, this was what she wanted, to at least try to save her marriage by understanding Cyril's needs and trying to fill them.<br/><br/>That he did not love Bridget was only a small comfort.  Marissa had thought he loved her, too, and the discovery of Cyril's mistress had spun her world on its axis, making her doubt him in even that fundamental way.  But he was here with her, his presence proof in itself that even if he hadn't loved Marissa enough, he at least loved her enough to want to salvage their relationship.<br/><br/>"Am I too demanding on you?  Is that what this is about?"  She'd always thought of herself as a pretty laid back wife, but if she needed to ask less of him, that was definitely a starting point she could work with.