Chapter 28

188 7 0
                                    


"Darson asked me to drop this off for you." I motion for Dean to come inside. He is holding a garment bag and I assume there's a dress inside. "He won't be coming home before the charity event so I'll drop you at the location and he'll meet you there." I nod and take the dress from him.

"Tonight is important, huh?" I sigh. I'm a bit nervous. Darson came up with the clever idea to let me do the speech. I hate being in the spotlight. What was he thinking?

"I'm nervous. I may or may not mess up." Dog eat dog world they say. I can't believe Darson just threw me in the kennel like that.

Dean sits beside me on the sofa. His hand falls on my shoulder to rub softly. "You'll do great." I nod in uncertainty. My eyes fall on his hand that is resting on my shoulder then back to him. He gives me a smile and I return it. "Can I give you that hug I owe you?" This takes me by surprise. I stare at him in curiosity as to try to figure him out. He gives me a reassuring squeeze on my shoulder.

I stand and so does he. When we finally hug, a soft breath of air escapes him. This hug is more awkward than I thought it'll be. Dean seems fine but I feel weird. I don't feel this way when I hug Darson. It makes me want to hug him when I see him later.

I start pulling away but Dean makes no attempt to let go. "You deserve so much better. I hate the way he treats you." I try again and this time he lets go. A humourless laugh escapes my lips.

"Darson isn't as much as the asshole he was before. I'll live." Why does he look so concern? He's not convinced.

"If you really want to get out of this marriage I'm sure there's a way." I feel uncomfortable having this conversation with Dean. He barely talks and now he's supporting my choice to leave the marriage? He must not like the idea of arranged marriages. Does he feel sorry for me?

"I should get ready for the event. I don't want to be late." The concern is still there. He sighs then nod.

***************************

Darson really does have a taste for fashion. How he even knows my size is beyond me. I don't know if to be worried that he knows this or not. It can't be a wild guess, can it?

The black dress is sleeveless but not strapless. There is floral netting at my chest and pretty much the rest of the dress except that there is a black garment under from my bust all the way down to a few inches above my knees. The dress is longer at the back which shows just a little hint of legs at the front. I pair my dress with black stilettos, silver stud earrings and a silver necklace that looked more like a choker. My brunette hair is fixed into half up and half down wavy curls. I add in a diamond clip at the top to hold the ponytail in place. I then apply some red lipstick then grab my clutch.

The staff at the hotel greets me as I walk by. Their stares no less discreet.

I meet Dean at the front and immediately enter the car. The ride there is around fifteen minutes long so in no time we are pulling into a parking lot. Someone opens the door and my eyes collide with Darson. He is standing there in a black tux and a face that deserves to be on a poster. He looks extra handsome tonight and I can't pinpoint why. Did he get a haircut? I don't think so.

He offers his hand and I take it, my eyes never leaving his. I make my way out with a small smile. Once at his side, I turn to the one camera man in front us. They must've personally invited him. The camera goes off. "You look stunning, Mrs. Meldeev." Darson whispers near my ear and something dances up my chest. I look over at him. Flash.

"As do you, Mr. Meldeev." The smile that takes over his face is enough to keep me staring. The camera going off again pulls us out of our bubble.

Darson keeps a hand on my back as we make our way to the hall where the charity event is being held. A lot of well known people are here. They are dressed exquisitely. Their jewellery gleaming under the chandelier. The clinking of glass shatters the air every second or so and laughter follows.

I Hate You But I Love You MoreWhere stories live. Discover now