- 8.
My hands shook as I tucked the draft divorce
agreement into my purse. I put on my shortest
<
dress, highest heels, makeup, perfume. I
opened the door.
“I’m going out.”
Ethan stared at me. It was the first time we’d
really looked at each other in days. The living
room light cast shadows across his
cheekbones. He looked thinner, his eyes
bloodshot. He looked like a man burning the
candle at both ends, sharp and alert, yet pale
and fragile. How long had he been sitting there?
“Where are you going?” he asked quietly.
“A friend’s.”
“Which friend?” His gaze lingered on my short
skirt, his expression darkening.
“You wouldn’t know them.”
He smiled, a silent, mirthless smile that crinkled
the corners of his eyes. He shook his head.
“Tell me. Then I’ll know them.”
“Ethan, our marriage was a transaction. You
agreed we wouldn’t interfere in each other’s
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personal lives-”
He slowly stood up. Six foot two, broad
shoulders, narrow waist a natural clothes
horse. I realized he wasn’t wearing a suit today,
just a close–fitting black sweater. The fabric
stretched taut across his chest. He looked
down at me, slowly taking off his blue–light
glasses and tossing them onto the sofa.
“Go on, Avery. Let’s hear it. I’m counting how
many more ways you can cut me down.”
I took a trembling step back, but pressed on.
“And I don’t owe you anything. My sister is
back. If she knew how you were treating me,
she would hate you even more.”
That seemed to get through to him. His brow
furrowed slightly. “What?”
I swallowed. “I’m leaving. And I’m divorcing
you!”
I threw the divorce agreement on the table and
ran for the door. The words were finally out. It
was over. The anxiety, the fear, it all lifted. I felt
the exhilaration of finally reaching the front of a
long line, about to board a roller coaster.
Exhilaration followed by a dizzying rush of fear.
I reached for the doorknob, my hand closing
around it –
“Slam!”
Ethan’s fist slammed the door shut. He pinned
my hands against the wood. “Don’t you dare.”
He stared down at me, his expression
surprisingly calm, but his eyes were dark and
bottomless, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Ethan! I’m seeing someone else! Wake up!”
His jaw clenched, the muscle in his temple
throbbing. He looked like he might pass out, his
knees trapping mine against the door, his hands.
still gripping mine, his whole body coiled around
me like a snake. He couldn’t seem to form any
words, curses or pleas. Just a strained, “Don’t
you dare.”
<
My back, pressed against his chest, burned.
The heat spread like wildfire through my bones,
my blood. My head spun. I couldn’t catch my breath, let alone think straight. The light was
too bright. I couldn’t avoid noticing his beautiful, furious face, the way his body pressed against mine.
I stammered, trying to form a scathing retort, but my voice betrayed me. Soft, almost a sob, I whispered, “But you don’t love me.“.
I gasped, the words barely audible. “Ethan,
please, let’s get a divorce. You don’t love me. Someone else will.”
His breath hitched. He went rigid, his jaw
clenching as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t. His trembling subsided, replaced by a steely strength. He straightened up, his hand braced against the door. I reached for the knob again, but he scooped me up into his arms.
“What are you doing?!” I struggled, kicking and
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hitting him.
He kissed me, hard, his expression blank, his
foot grinding the divorce papers into the floor.
“Divorce? Over my dead body.”
Tears of frustration welled up. “Why are you
doing this to me? Why are you being so
unreasonable?”
He carried me to the bed.
“Because we’re married,” he said, his voice low
and rough. “And we’re stuck with each other.”
I tried to provoke him. “I love him! I slept with
him!”
The final layer peeled away, but the earth didn’t shatter. He calmly began undressing. His lips were red and swollen from my bites, making his face look even paler, more striking. His muscles were sculpted, perfect, even better than the
picture I’d sent. He looked down at me.
“So?”
“What?”
<
“You’re young,” he said flatly. “It’s normal to be
curious, to want to experiment.”
I stared at him, incredulous. He shed his last
layer of clothing, my gaze drawn downwards.
Suddenly, I understood the chuckle. He had
every right to be amused.
He took my wrist, leaning closer, the scent of
his skin filling my senses. Stripped of his
tailored suits, his endless work, his cold
words… I noticed, for the first time, the
obvious. Ethan was a man. A powerfully
attractive man.
“You…” I couldn’t form a coherent sentence.
My senses were overwhelmed.
He looked at me steadily. “Avery, you’re just
hungry. Threatening to leave over junk food is
childish.”
He brushed my hair back, gently but firmly
tilting my head up. Another long, consuming kiss. I could barely breathe. I almost forgot why
I’d started this whole charade.
His hand tightened on my neck, not enough to
hurt, but enough to make me gasp. He looked
down at me, his voice low and husky. “But
trying to leave me for junk… that’s not
acceptable. There are consequences for bad
behavior.”
I trembled, my voice shaky, as if under a spell.
“What… what kind of consequences?”
His fingertip traced the path of the imaginary
moles again. I whimpered, begging him to stop.
He watched, silent, until my pleas turned to
choked sobs, tears spilling down my cheeks.
Then, with a sigh, as if absolving me of all my
sins, he kissed me again, his touch deepening…
“Ding–dong. Ding–dong. Ding–dong.”
The doorbell rang. Ethan ignored it, pressing
closer. A knock on the bedroom door.
“Avery, it’s me! Ethan, are you in there?” My
sister’s voice, urgent and concerned.
Ethan’s grip tightened on the sheets. He took a
deep, shuddering breath, his face a mask of
barely suppressed fury. Was it because he was
seeing the woman he truly loved? I smiled
bitterly. The heart I’d buried three years ago
ached with a masochistic twinge. Maybe it was
because, for the past few days, his
possessiveness had given me false hope.
“Avery?” Another knock, more insistent. Then
the doorknob turned.
My heart leaped. The lock was broken!
“Don’t open it! Wait in the living room. I’ll be
right there,” Ethan said, pulling the covers over
- me.
“…Okay.”
