His Appointed Wife

25. Confrontations, promises and healings

The way your eyes flit away from me whenever you lie to me-- it is their way of being almost honest. -Alex.
~~~

25. Confrontations, promises and healings

(Alexandra)

Two days. Two long days. Alex was holed up in her room and Logan, Logan was still so busy he didn't have time.

Busy running around with Stacy. She thought with vengeance.

This morning, she woke up again, feeling groggy and miserable and irritated. She hadn't sleep much since the day they fought with each other and even when she slept, she dreamed --it was mostly nightmares--of Logan leaving her before the year was over.

She had wanted an year with him. If it made her a greedy person, so be it, but she needed that year, needed it like a fish needed water to survive.

Now it looked like she might never get it.

The morning looked bleak and dull and it looked like the sun was lethargic, as well. The usual bright rays were almost a vane shadow through her curtains. She opened her eyes as she stretched under her cover and closed it again with irritation. She didn't want a wet, gloomy day to add to her misery.

She wanted sunshine. She needed it to get out of her bed and get going. But even the weather was not on her side today.

He lied. She thought for the millionth time in two day, as she burrowed further into her blanket. The soft wool slid over her body, like a comfortable cuddling partner. For one night, he had been her cuddling partner. And it was all over before it had even properly started.

He lied, as he looked into my eyes.

She had asked, didn't she? She had decided to give him a chance to come out to her. To tell her the truth. Instead, he looked right into her eyes, without even blinking and said he was meeting a client.

A client would not wear a low cut, sexy black dress for a meeting. She would not paint an obnoxious red on her lips --maybe she would, but that wasn't the point. The point was that it was Stacy and it was a date. Or it was more, more than just a date.

And as if lying to her was not enough, he poked at her right exactly where it would hurt. He knew it would hurt, he knew it would embarrass her, paralyze her from saying anything.

Virgin. Inexperienced.

He had laughed at her, mocking her ineptitude in bed with such cruel casualness that it made doubt ripping through her heart.

Didn't he enjoy me like I enjoyed him? Was he just patronizing me because I was a pathetic girl, ready to give up her virginity to him and because he felt sorry for me?!

She wondered whether he ever enjoyed making love to her or he was simply indulging her. And faking it. The thought was like a pinprick of nasty, nasty doubt on her head and all over her itching skin.

Don't kid yourself. He had said as he looked into her eyes. Fun for a night. Fun. Fun. Don't kid yourself.

She could hear his voice ringing inside, like an echo, unwanted and uninvited, it rang inside her head in a loop. She shook her head as if she wanted to dislodge her mind and her thoughts, but it wouldn't go away. It was stuck.