Seconds, maybe minutes after Brandon storms out of the diner with Josh hot on his tail, I stand there, feet rooted to the ground until someone shakes me out of my trance. My gaze falls on Clarissa who has a hand on my arm, I blink the tears lining my eyes and try to reciprocate her smile which does little to comfort me. How could I let him kiss me? A married woman.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” I blink, my head bobs like a robot and she rubs the back of her hand against my cheek to comfort me. “Go after him.”
On cue, my eyes wander to the door like I expect Brandon to walk back in and ask for the car keys so he can drive us home as planned. The throbbing in my head intensifies, I scan the nearly empty diner save for the couple a few booths away with the nosy female who has her phone turned towards me. I stalk in her direction until someone yanks me back.
“I’ll handle that,” Clarissa volunteers when I turn to her with my lips in a thin line, “go after your husband.”
Husband. A tear slides down my cheek, I nod and offer her a shaky smile. I don’t want a video of us circulating all over the internet, especially not a bad one, we have done our best to keep our marriage private and I love it that way. Clarissa pulls me in for a brief hug, my hands hang limply by my sides and she pulls away to smile at me. Nudging me in the direction of the door, I pout, almost hesitant to leave and speed walk to my car.
Dumping my belongings on the backseat, my hand trembles and the key slips from me when I try to insert it into the ignition. Retrieving the bunch, I take deep breaths and try to start the car but the tears blinding my vision causes me to miss the ignition. Again.
Pressing my forehead to the steering wheel, explanations to unasked questions and worse case scenarios cloud my head. Brandon’s disappoint look plagues me, I sigh, afraid to see him right now, he probably doesn’t want to see me either. He didn’t spare me a glance. I swipe at the traitorous tears leaking to my cheeks and scoff, that husband of mine walked out without giving me a chance to explain. He must hate me now.
The passenger door opens, my shoulders relax at the familiar scent that invades the air. Clarissa’s hand comes to rest on my back, I raise my head and stare morosely at her.
“Why did you do it?” I blink, she clears her throat and her hand returns to her lap. “Why did you do it?” Her question sounds all too familiar. “Why did you let him kiss you?”
Surprise tinged with disappointment dances across her feature, my hand raises and falls back to my leg with a resigned sigh. My heart clenches at the look she sends my way while awaiting my explanation, I so badly want to wipe that expression from her face.
Without being told, she should know the answer to that question. I would never do that.
“I didn’t do it,” I whisper and take another deep breath to rein my nerves. Clarissa stares at me with her all-knowing smile, she shakes her head and her black hair tumbles out of her bun to frame her round face. The weight on my shoulders dissolves when she pouts.
“One minute we are talking and the next minute, his lips are on mine,” I murmur. I sigh, she grabs my hand in a gentle grip. “I didn’t kiss him,” I cast her a desperate look, she nods, “I would never. You know how rigid I am when it comes to things like that.”
We both know I am a conservative. I didn’t stay a virgin so I can let random, well, not random men kiss me but I will never let myself get carried away like that. He forced a kiss on me, my head sways, I will rather label that incident a form of harassment.
Closing my eyes as memories of Josh and I laughing before things went south flood my mind, I wonder what went wrong and let out a soft sigh. I am done with that friendship.
“I believe you,” she murmurs and my head bobs. I hope he will too, he has to. I love him.
Hello brother.
Bile rushes to my throat at that memory, I grimace. How are they brothers? Is Josh the estranged sibling he doesn’t want to speak about? I palm my head in an attempt to stop the building headache, I don’t need this right now. I need to return home to my baby.
Home. My heart skips a beat, I cast one look at my wrist and a strangled sound leaves my lips. I need to leave. Now. With shaky hands, I retrieve the damned key which slips to the floor but a feather-like touch on my wrist stops me from making another move.
I turn to Clarissa, masking my inner turmoil with a glare that can bore holes into a door.
“I ordered you an Uber, I don’t think you are in the right state of mind to drive,” she says. I nod, tucking my hands between my legs, his flight is in a few minutes. But he can wait, he owns the jet. My eyes follow her phone which she slides into her pocket, I nod again. “Your husband is hot,” she whispers, I let out a mirthless chuckle. “Very hot.”
“Yeah, he is.” Some of the tension dissolves, I stare at the window of the diner and ask, “Are you still mad at me?” She coughs, I turn to her but her eyes are on her laps. “Clary.”
Her head finally raises, she tries and fails to smile. “Yes,” the smile that eventually takes over her lips doesn’t reach her eyes, “we had so many plans. I was supposed to be your wedding planner.” I nod, unable to utter a word in my defence, we did have so many plans. Her hand stretches to me, she shrugs. “But you need your best friend right now.”
We don’t speak throughout the wait for the Uber driver but Clarissa’s quiet presence lends me strength and time to gather my thoughts until his arrival. I barely feel the hug she squeezes me into nor her hands swiping across my cheeks to wipe my tears. We get out of my car, I blink, only to see her gently shoving me into the backseat of the uber.
The ride home is a blur, I run up the stairs and into our room as soon as I burst through the doors of our mansion. My breath comes out in rasps, I place a hand over my chest and my heart slows at the sight of our empty room. I skid to the closet and whimper.
His missing luggage causes the suppressed panic to reappear, my knee buckle and my heart hammers in my chest as my hands search through my pockets for my phone. I lift my head slowly and my shoulders sag at the sudden, regrettable realisation that hits me.
My phone is in my purse, my purse is in my bag, my bag is in my car.
Letting out a defeated sigh, tears well up my eyes and my teeth sink into my lip. My feet carry me slowly to the front of our room, a switch goes off in my head, I fist bump the air and scamper down the stairs to the one location I failed to check. He has to be there.
Relief floods my vein on seeing the ajar door of Brandon’s office, I let out an audible sigh and smile at his figure hunched over his desk, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
Files lay on the table in a mess unlike him, he skims the first lines on each document before putting them inside the briefcase on the heap. After taking deep breaths, I stalk towards him, my heart in my mouth as my hand reaches out to circle his wrist.
He jerks from my touch, I swallow and straighten up when he returns to the files.
“Baby, it’s not what you think it is.”
Brandon moves around his desk, avoiding me like I am the plague while perusing the files. My chest tightens. I take one step back to stare at his face which he keeps down.
“It’s not what I think?” He barely spares me a glance, I gulp and nod. “Very well then, enlighten me, Elna.” That mask that stood in the way of us growing close at the early stage of our relationship blankets his face. “Tell me something I don’t know, Mrs Stark.”
“I love you,” I whisper and the only sign he heard me is the halting of his hand on a file.
“You don’t.”
“I do, Brandon,” I cry out. Moving to the front of his desk, I fold my arms. “I love you, you know that.” He lets out a cackle that sends shivers down my spine, my hands fall to my sides. “You love it when I say how I feel about you. I’m saying I love you and I’m sorry.”
Our eyes meet, lines appear on his forehead and he slams a file on the table, causing me to jump back. Leaning over his desk, his lips curve into a strange smile. “When you are in love with someone, you strive to make them happy not kiss their younger brother.”
I am broken from the trance of his arresting gaze when he returns to shoving files into his briefcase and a sigh escapes me. I always want him happy, his happiness is mine too.
Covering the distance between us, I wrap my arms around his waist from behind. Tears leak to my cheeks, wetting his work shirt in the process but I don’t care, my heart cannot handle anything less than love from him. Brandon tries and fails to pry my hands off him, my shoulders vibrate and I cry harder. I tighten my hold on him, afraid to let go.
I am never letting go.
“Elna.”
The warning in his deceivingly calm voice has my hands lowering to my sides, I gawk at his rigid back. It won’t change a thing but I still say, “Joshua kissed me, I didn’t return it.”
His laughter reverberates in his large office, he jams his briefcase close and my hands reach out to touch his back. He jerks, the rejection stings as much as the unshed tears in my eyes. At a loss on what to do or say, I start creating random circles on the floor.
The sight of him moving to the door sends a signal to my brain, I rush to block his way out and he eyes me from head to toe with contempt, forcing me to squeeze my eyelids shut.
“Okay,” I say and swallow while slowly opening my eyes, “let’s go to the playroom. You can, you can punish me.” He scoffs. “Please. Anything but please don’t leave like this.”