Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
This was a fishing expedition, and I wondered if she’d take the bait, if she would deny it, or stay silent. She removed her Louboutin pump from the corner of the elevator and stepped back.
Silence it was.
Other than my heart thundering inside my chest, I didn’t flinch and I didn’t look away. As soon as the doors shut, my entire body sagged in relief.
For a moment, I entertained the thought of telling Sebastian. However, it wouldn’t do anybody any good to resurrect the dead. I wasn’t a hundred percent certain whether India had cheated on him or not. Either way, I now knew for certain that I had to keep him as far away from that woman as possible.
The lights did not turn on automatically when I entered the apartment. That was the first sign that there was something very wrong. The atmosphere was that of a funeral. A miasma of grim energy hung around, so thick it was tangible. Darkness covered every corner of the room, drapes pulled tight, the air stale. The silence was absolute; only the heavy beating of my heart and the air I labored to pull into my lungs could be heard.
Then there was the mess. Pillows were scattered on the ground, clothing strewn about, furniture out of place. However, that’s not what made my breath catch and my stomach flip. It was the trail of empty bottles that led to the bedroom. Taking one timid step after another, I followed them to the doorway. There I stood, scanning the room for a sign of life, when a low, raspy voice pulled my attention to the oversized down chairs near the window.
“What do you want?”
Barely visible, he was seated with his head leaning back on the cushion and an arm hanging over the armrest. In his hand was a glass flask.
All the wounded feelings I had been nursing for the past month dissolved in an instant. What had I been holding on to? My principles, or my pride? The answer came crashing down on me with a large dose of shame. My pride was costing me the love of my life. Instead of trying to reason with him, I’d let him push me away. I should’ve known he wouldn’t do anything to harm me, that he would only harm himself. And I’d let him. I might as well have sanctioned it.
I’ll admit that I was nervous. The situation was as unpredictable as the man sitting in the chair. With great trepidation, I walked over to him and sunk to my knees, facing him, forcing him to look at me. I almost didn’t recognize the man staring back. There was nothing left of the bright, funny charmer that had stolen my heart.
His eyes moved away from me, at a point in the distance. Now that my sight had adjusted to the dim light filtering through the crack in the drapes, I could see his eyes rimmed in red, blue and purple shadows painted under them. His hair was dirty, hanging in his face. He wore at least a week old beard––and he smelled. My God, he smelled. By the look of his t-shirt and sweats, he hadn’t taken a shower since the last time he had shaved. A veil covered his eyes. He refused to look at me.
“Tire of your boyfriend already?” He knew how to push my buttons all too well. The snide insult raised my hackles and pricked my pride, but I schooled it into submission. This is what had gotten us into this mess in the first place.
“He was never my boyfriend, you dolt. Stop trying to hurt me.”
The erratic tick on his cheek told me I had hit a nerve. He wasn’t as far gone as he wanted me to believe. “I don’t want you here. Get the fuck out,” he growled. But I had heard it, the crack in his voice, in his resolve to push me away and out of his life.
“I’m not your subject, darling. You can’t decree I leave you alone and expect me to obey.” His eyes finally met mine, narrowed, burning with anger. I was so grateful the Walking Dead look was gone I didn’t care what he threw at me.
“If you’re here to ask for a divorce you can forget it. I’ll never give you one.” The pain I felt grip my chest was not for me. It was for him. He thought he was threatening me. How had I allowed it to go this far?
“Good––because I’ll never give you one either. You’re stuck with me so you better make peace with it.” If the circumstances hadn’t been so tragic, the look on his face would’ve made me laugh. I desperately wanted to kiss the shock and confusion away, however I knew I had to go slowly or he would fight me tooth and nail. His suspicion and distrust would overrule his intellect.