A Perfect Stitch

Chapter 54 | perhaps it's contempt

"I haven't." He cleared his throat and his voice was a raspy melody to the ears. "Some people are hard nuts to crack. You try to understand them even though you can't, fend for them even though they won't let you ask where you went wrong, but they give you an attitude. What is the need?"

"Let go of your ego, so you won't hurt."

Brielle peeked at his wicked scorn from beneath her lashes.

She was a distraction. "Didn't you fake that business trip to run away from family drama? What happened? Wasn't it a two weeks vacation?"

His knuckles swept a few braids out of her face and tossed them behind her ears.

"If it was a made-up story just to get an excuse to escape family responsibilities...then, I won't have worked overtime, pulling all-nighters to draft projects and prepare PowerPoint presentations for our business partners abroad."

"Arrgh, you are so much convincing." She smacked his arm. "You could have at least taken Elisabeth along. You know, some alone time, somewhere alone, and all . . . maybe it would have been fruitful."

His lips twitched with a silent smirk.

"Stop messing with me." He shortened the steps between them and secured his hands around her back. "Your imagination doesn't stop running wild, does it?"

"Why won't it run wild?" She played with the brink of his collars. "You should get acquainted with the wonders of a rich imagination, it not only enhances artistic creativity, but it can walk you to very meaningful places."

Why did they ignore me?

I burned with an ache to throw a fist at Dwain and punch his gut.

Why didn't Dwain make me his priority, tonight?

"Let him go, he can't breathe."

I looked forward to screaming back at Brielle but those words won't get out, they stuck in my throat.

I coughed. "Both of you are making my neck turn. Kindly take your discussion somewhere else, please, would you?"

My focus shifted to a distant star outside the closed windows.

It was lonely, shining above the night sky.

Dwain puffed out a breath, frowned, and gestured towards the staircases which lead to the rooms upstairs.

"You might as well leave if our discussion is inappropriate." He deepened his baritone. "Is someone withholding you?"

I craved his touch but he gave me a sour treatment.

My heart was empty, emotionally assaulted, and deprived of attention.

It thumped bitterly to the rhythm of his absurd narcissism.

Each heartbeat bored a hole in my chest.

His attitude drove me crazy.

I was fed up.

My brows furrowed. "So I'm the third wheel?" I crossed my arms over my chest. "Is this what we have become, rivals? You don't give a damn about my feelings, do you? I'm an illusion, a Christmas ghost in your presence."

"Elisabeth, calm down. It's not a fight." Brielle murmured over her shoulder, outstretched her free hand to me, and waved.

Her fingers bopped in the air. "Come join us, there is enough cuddling space in his arms."

I regarded Dwain with hostility. "I don't want to cuddle, I want to strangle."

His eyes were a blank canvas, not giving away whatever stuff went wrong at the back of his mind.