It Should Have Been Like This (The Revised Version)

Chapter 109: Possession and Apologies

Lavender stood in the dimly lit living room, her nerves fraying with every passing second. The soft glow of the overhead light bathed the space in warm hues, but it did little to soothe the tension crackling in the air. Rominic was pacing, his creamy blonde hair disheveled, winter-gray eyes stormy as they pinned her in place. He wasn't speaking yet, but his silence was worse than yelling. It was the kind of silence that suffocated, pressing down on her chest like an unseen weight.

She laughed nervously, the sound brittle as it broke the stillness. "It's not what you're thinking," she said, her voice softer than she intended. "I swear, Rominic, it's not.”

His eyes flickered, sharp and unyielding, and she could feel his temper bubbling just beneath the surface. The faint ticking of his wall clock was the only other sound in the room, an infuriating reminder of how slowly time seemed to move in moments like these.

Lavender inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself. Her cinnamon-brown hair clung to the sides of her face, damp from the sweat of anxiety. "We were locked in a room," she explained quickly, holding her hands up in a gesture of placation. "There was no way to get out. While we were stuck, we talked things out. That's all. Apollo and I are friends now. Just friends."

She emphasized the word, her emerald green eyes meeting his stormy gaze with a mixture of determination and pleading. "I'm married, Rominic. To you. I'm in love with you. Apollo is the last man I would ever—" she hesitated, faltering for just a second. "The last man I would ever cheat with."

Rominic's lips curved into a humorless smirk, the corners of his mouth twitching with barely contained ire. "The last man, huh?" His voice was cool, but the undercurrent of anger was unmistakable. "So he's still on the list. At the bottom, but there. And the fact that you even said cheat means the thought has crossed your mind."

Lavender exhaled sharply, exhaustion seeping into her bones. The night had already drained her, and this conversation was pushing her past her limit. "I've been through a lot tonight, Rominic," she said, her voice weary. "I'm tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow?"

She turned to walk past him, aiming for the stairs and the sanctuary of their bedroom. But before she could take another step, his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist in an iron grip and yanking her back. She gasped, her emerald eyes widening in surprise as she stumbled slightly, her breath hitching at the sudden intensity radiating off him.

"Rominic!" she exclaimed, startled.

His face was taut with emotion, his usual calm and collected demeanor shattered. The possessive rage in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine. His grip tightened, and though his touch wasn't painful, it carried an oppressive weight that made her chest tighten. She felt small, almost shrinking beneath the intensity of his presence.

"You're mine," he said, his voice low and trembling with an unrestrained ferocity that made her stomach churn. "Do you hear me? You're mine, Lavender. I won't stand for you choosing anyone else over me. Ever."

The words struck her like a physical blow. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in as his possessiveness loomed like a shadow. She gulped, worry flickering across her face.

"Rominic," she began, her voice softer, but he interrupted her, his eyes blazing.

"I'd rather die," he said darkly, his voice almost a growl. "I'd rather die than let you leave me again. Do you understand? Do you know what it does to me to even think about losing you? I'm already dead just from the thought of it."

His words burned with raw emotion, and though her heart ached for the depth of his fear, anger flared in her chest. She tugged at her wrist, but his grip didn't loosen. Her irritation boiled over, cutting through her earlier unease.