“The color of the rock reminds me of the color of your eyes when they get caught with the sun, like liquid gold. I commissioned this ring to be made the day after I left for New York. That night, I knew you were it for me. I don’t want anyone else. I know everything’s been unfolding so quickly, but I wanted—needed—you to know how much you mean to me. I love you wholeheartedly. Will you please let me be the happiest man in all of England and say yes?”
I stared wide-eyed at the ring, back to his face and back to the ring again. Shocked didn’t even begin to cover my reaction.
“Blake… I’m sorry… I can’t.”
He abruptly stood up and grabbed my face with a fierce scowl. “What do you mean you can’t? How hard is it to say yes?”
“I can’t. I’m sorry,” I stammered through my tears.
“I see. I guess, I imagined that you felt the same way, but I suppose that’s all it was, all in my imagination.”
He heaved and turned to me with a stony face. “You’ll regret this because I’ve only ever loved you and when you see me happy with another woman, you’ll regret it even more. Your thoughts will be haunted by me; the one that got away. Goodbye, Sienna.” He stood there for a few seconds before sliding in the Aston Martin, gunning the engine and rapidly vanishing through the traffic.
He had been right, I was going to regret it, but at the same time, maybe he was just too intense for me. When I was dating Kyle before, it was never like this; contrasting Heaven and Hell, never in between. The fights were always tumultuous and the love was blindingly consuming. Maybe our love just wasn’t right. Maybe we weren’t supposed to stay together this long.
Could I live without Blake? Maybe, maybe not. All I knew was that I was a survivor, and I always managed to keep afloat, even if I had nothing to fight for, nothing worth living for.
I wasn’t sure why, but I caught myself taking off the engagement ring and then the wedding band. Automatedly, I placed them on the mirrored dresser while my insides recoiled at the mere sight of them.
Divorce. The word taunted me.
Strolling towards the bedroom, I tugged against the comforter before I heard a thud coming from downstairs. And right off the bat, my heart hammered against my ribcage, surging life through me again.
“Don’t go,” I murmured to myself, yet my feet had a mind of their own, not heeding the warning my mind was giving. My silk robe trailed beneath my feet as I strode along the hallways, towards the stairs. Stopping atop the stair landing, the foyer was empty, therefore I decided to descend the steps, and mid-way through it, he emerged from living room.
It felt like time stood still—suspended—as we stared into each other, realizing that we weren’t meant to be. Even still, my eyes devoured him. The mere sight of him almost brought me to my knees.
He seemed detach as he looked at me, as if I was something uninteresting. He was the first one who broke the eye contact, leaving me beyond disconcerted.
He is done with me. The old Blake could never get enough of me. This man did. He even looked irritated.
As I watched him like a hawk, he started to unhurriedly stride towards the stairs. He was avoiding eye contact as he started to take each step before passing me without any sort of greeting, without a word at all.
But something bright caught my eye.
“Son of a bitch!” I shrilled like an unhinged banshee before I yanked his arm back so he couldn’t walk another step before I went a step ahead of him to gain more eye leverage then slapped his emotionless face. “You have a lipstick mark on your cheek. How fucking dare you come home with that shit on you!”
He remained motionless, not even caring to meet my eyes, nor did he care to defend himself. He was merely detached. Empty.
“Look at me!” I yelled. “Fucking look at me,” I demanded again, but he never did bring up his face to meet mine. The racking pain made me feel dangerous. It was making me lose my mind. Nothing made sense to me. “I see. Okay. You’ve already done your part. Well, it’s time I did mine then,” I hissed at his non-responding face. “How would you feel if I let Kyle fuck me until kingdom come? Or better yet, how about your cousin Clive? I’m sure he could use a good workout.”
“Go shag whoever you want, but leave my family alone,” he grounded out but made no effort to look at me still, which only goaded me to do more damage.
He hated the mention of his hot cousin. Well, too bad. All was fair in love and war. And this… this was definitely World War III. I wasn’t going to lie, it bothered me he didn’t even care that I thought of Kyle. This realization only worsened my condition.
Disgusted at the both of us, I tightened my robe as I decided to take flight, but this time, he was the one doing the arm yanking.
“I said leave Clive alone,” he gritted out the words before he lifted his eyes to reveal his stormy ones.
He made me breathless, even in this unfortunate time.
“Did you hear me, Sienna? Go waste yourself with someone else, but don’t you dare fuck any of my relatives.”
I wanted to spit at him. Maybe slap him again. Or maybe kick his dick because the chances of him sleeping with the woman who left a lipstick mark on his cheek were already a given. The bastard had cheated on me. He fucking cheated on me!
My blood boiled again as I pictured him plowing through some willing beautiful body.
“Let me go.”
His fingers dug into my skin, gripping it harder. “I need you to promise me that you won’t go after any of my family.”
Maybe the storm in his eyes—midnight, silver and gold amidst the black—made me nod, conceding to his request, but I wasn’t sure. Because, even though I was mesmerized, I thought my heart couldn’t take being this close to him much longer. Consequently, I’d do what must be done to get away from him as far as I could imagine.
“Say it,” he demanded harshly, nearing his face to mine.
The intensity of his eyes, the anger, the disgust on his face left me to shame as I dropped my eyes to his chest. And right there on his collar, another tinge of the same colored lipstick stained his impeccable white dress shirt. Dear God, I couldn’t… I couldn’t stand any of this any longer.
“I promise,” I made an audible whisper. “I won’t.”
I counted to bide my time until he released me from his grip, but after ten counts, he still had his hand on me, gripping me in a steel-like vice.
“How can I trust your word?”