A Glass Of Champagne

Chapter Twenty Seven

not edited. I was nursing a fever and a sore throat when I wrote this. Sorry in advance if it's shitty .

DARIO

Couples therapy.

What a fucking joke. I never imagined myself sitting here, in this sterile office, listening to some stranger with awful acne try to dissect my relationship with Elena.

I shift uncomfortably in the chair, glancing around the room, my fingers drumming an impatient rhythm on my thigh. This is a waste of time. I'd rather be out on the court, sweating it out a practice.

Elena sits across from me, her arms folded defensively across her chest. She's barely made eye contract with me since we entered this place. I can practically feel the hostility emanating from her, directed squarely at me.

Her gaze avoiding mine as if it's poison. It pisses me off how she can demand we attend this fucking couples therapy but won't even look at me.

Greta, our therapist with a soothing voice, tries to break the ice. "Dario, Elena, thank you for being here today. Let's start by discussing what brings you to couples therapy."

I sigh, feeling the weight of frustration settle on my shoulders. "Look, I don't even know why we're here. This is some unnecessary crap. We're adults. We can figure out our problems on our own."

Elena's eyes narrow at me. Oh she's finally acknowledging me now? Her voice dripped with sarcasm, "Oh, of course Dario. Because ignoring our issues and pretending they don't exist has been working so well for us."

I grit my teeth. "This is just... pointless."

Greta leans forward, her gentle smile unfazed by my hostility. "Dario, it's important to create a safe space where both of you can express your feelings. If we're going to make any progress, we need to address the issues that have been causing strain in your relationship."

I glance at Elena, my frustration giving away to exhaustion. "Fine. Whatever."

Elena shifts in her seat, "You know what, Dario? You're unbelievable. You sleep with Solana, my best friend, and then she turns up pregnant, and you act like it's just another day at the office."

I clench my fists, my temper flaring. "I've told you, Elena, it was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened."

She scoffs, bitterness etched into her every word. "That's how you justify sleeping with her? So you mistakenly slip your dick into her vagina and ejaculate inside of her?"

"It's not like that," I protest, my voice rising. "We were drunk off our assess. We didn't plan for any of this."

Elena's eyes blaze with anger. "You didn't plan for it, but you're not exactly mourning the situation either. You've always had a soft spot for Solana, even before you found out she had cancer. Admit it."

I run my hand through my hair. Fuck I do not want to be here. And why the hell hasn't pimple face Greta butted in yet? It's her job as a therapist is to mediate and diffuse the arguing?

Elena leans forward, her voice dripping with venom. "You know what's worse than you sleeping with her and getting her pregnant? You still being in love with her. You think I haven't noticed the way you look at her even when your angry at her? I've seen it in your eyes. You can't hide that from me."

Fuck man. Has it been that obvious? Part of me always knew that I loved Solana but I didn't want to admit it because of how wrong she did me.

Greta's gaze shifts between us, her presence a reminder that we're here to face these painful truths. "Elena, Dario, it's important to communicate openly and honestly about your feelings."