Like every other event I had to attend, this one too had turned into another ridiculous fiasco of people trying to collect large amounts of money under the pretense to really give a fuck about the cause. I hated attending social events and fundraisers were right at the top of my least favorite's ones. This one especially, given the fact that the fool Ethan Shaffer managed to ruin the entire night by addressing Isabelle as Cora. That guy hadn't changed a bit since college. Somehow, he always had the magical ability to appear in the wrong fucking place at the wrong fucking time and say the wrong fucking thing.
Tapping my fingers on the desk to keep my nerves at bay, I slowly looked towards Isabelle. The moment my eyes settled on her, the most captivating shade of pink spread over her cheeks. It was so obvious she had been hit by Ethan's remark. The traces of hurt were present on her pretty face and, like always, it did something to me. For heaven's sake. It made me want to pick her up in my arms and tell her she shouldn't worry because I'd make it okay. Little by little, her presence was turning me into someone my father would refer to as a pussy, but surprisingly, I didn't care. If I had to show weakness to be the man she needed me to be, then so be it. She looked at me warily as if she highly doubted I was capable to swallow my pride and it tempted me to prove her wrong.
"I'm sorry," I said softly, accentuating the words that so rarely, if ever crossed my lips. "I should have introduced the two of you immediately, and then he wouldn't have made that wrong assumption."
Regardless of the fact that I had made an effort to make her feel better, she was still trapped in her dark world of despair. She lowered her gaze at the table, like she was ashamed. Looking at her like that was almost unbearable, but I couldn't bring myself to look away. Patiently, I waited for her to say something and after a short while, she finally looked up at me, saying the last thing I needed to hear. "I'm sorry as well. I know you would have been a lot happier if Cora was the one sitting across the table from you right now," she said in a quiet, humble voice.
As the feeling of disappointment surged through me, I trained my eyes on her, swallowing the words I suddenly wanted to shout out. You are the one I want sitting across the table from me. You are the one I want sleeping next to me. You are the one I want! Instead of doing that, I've opted for a more diplomatic version, hoping she would manage to read between the lines.
"You should stop trying to decode what I think or how I feel, because you're doing a very lousy job at it." Never in my entire life, had I uttered something with such determination and I already knew it was too much for her.
Now I was angry with myself because I had probably managed to scare her... again. This is not how I imagined this weekend to go. I hoped I would finally get a chance to gradually show her how I really felt, but ever since we arrived to Las Vegas, things only went from bad to worse and this last incident was just the icing on the cake.
Curious about her reaction, I glanced at her and noticed she was lost in deep thoughts. I've spent the entire evening trying to come up with something to say, but I couldn't think of anything that made sense and I knew that talking could only make it worse, so I wisely chose to keep my mouth shut. Still, I was bothered with the fact that she looked so damn sad. I had finally decided to end the torture for both of us and I told her we were leaving. She looked at me with a mixture of relief and the undertone of worry I had already learned to recognize in her eyes. No matter what I tried to say or do, nothing could ease her fears. Lowering her head to the floor, she was probably already busy imagining what could happen once we arrived in that hotel room. Though it make me feel frustrated, I couldn't blame her. Isabelle had a spectrum of memories to feed her panic and my reassurances were never enough to take them away.
All this time I was trying to get closer, but it had only caused her to push me away and I was running out of options. I wanted to tell her I had feelings for her. I wanted to tell her I was regretting my actions so much that every breath I took felt heavy with pressure to make amends. But I was afraid to confront her with those things when she looked so fragile like the slightest touch could break her. And then there was the issue of what I could possibly say to make her understand how I felt. I've changed my mind. You're not the little shameless gold-digger I made you out to be... I'm sorry. Please, forgive me for treating you like you meant nothing to me. Please, forgive me for... Even in my thoughts I couldn't bring myself to say it without being ashamed of myself and the feeling was impossible to shake off.
A silent curse broke through me and I clenched my fist to compose myself before I lost it right there on the parking lot. Regardless of the mess in my head, I had to keep it together for the both of us. Isabelle reached for the handle of the door and, instinctively, I brushed my hand against hers and opened the door of the car, waiting for her to come in. Her eyes widened in surprise and I felt like a complete asshole. Of course she didn't expect anything nice from me. In her eyes, I must have been a monster. If I could put my money on it, I'd bet she feared me more than Satan.
When I joined her in the car, the aura of tension settled in between us. With the intention to give her some space, I looked outside the window and observed Las Vegas at night. Usually, I never took the time to do those little things, but lately it felt as if my fast moving world was slowing down around me. After denying myself the privilege to look at her for a while, her deep breathing disrupted my self control and I made myself look her way. The sight in front of me made me swallow hard. I had to take a deep breath to keep myself from losing control. Like a goddess, she was fast asleep with the strands of her natural golden hair falling down her blushing cheeks. My hand twitched in desire to remove those strands from her face and gently caress her soft skin. Achingly, I wanted to touch her. I wanted to feel her without her body shivering in trepidation.
As if she could sense my stare on her, she produced a grimace on her face and I instantly knew she was having another bad dream. I waited for her to scream my name and beg me not to hurt her like she always had, but she remained silent. She didn't cry in hysteria, shocked by the fact that in her dream I'd cause her unspeakable pain despite her desperate pleas. To my surprise, she didn't utter a single sound, and I was struck by the realization that her silence hurt more than her screams.
Without false pretenses, I wasn't a person who cared about the world. I wasn't somebody who felt compassion towards people. But her... I cared about her more than I cared about myself. Seeing her shiver in the sudden fear of her dream again, I wanted to hold her in my arms and offer her protection, even though I was defeated by the resolution that I was the one she needed to be protected from.
When the driver braked and started swearing at some idiot who cut him off, Isabelle's eyes suddenly snapped open and met mine. She gasped as she slowly realized where she was and what was happening. I could tell that my unmoving stare made her feel uneasy, but as if I was glued to her, I couldn't look away and give her a peace of mind. Despite my wish to get lost in that mesmerizing shade of brown, she was the one to look away. As we neared the hotel, she was getting more nervous. So was I. The incident from the day before when she had a panic attack in the bathroom still occupied the very core of my mind. If there was anything that managed to touch me in my entire life, it was the image of her helpless and mistrusting stare.
The building of the hotel finally appeared before our eyes and I saw her sigh in discomfort. I got out of the car and immediately started practicing my new made promise to myself. Pay attention to her. As if I'd performed a magic trick, the surprise in her eyes was immense when I gently laid my hand on the small of her back and started leading her towards the entrance. It felt pleasant. It felt as if she was mine and even though I knew it was only for a few short minutes, I liked the feeling.
When we entered the elevator, she instantly blushed and looked down. I knew exactly what was going through her mind. She was torturing herself again, replaying the events of that black night. To show her she had nothing to fear, I tightened my grip on her back, but despite my hopes, instead of getting the message I was trying to send, she flinched in fright and my state of mind sank even deeper.
We walked towards the room in silence. Reluctantly, I removed my hand from her back to unlock the door and I waited for her to get inside. I observed as she made a few nervous steps and then tripped, falling on the floor. I tried to catch her, but I was too late. I was always too late. In an instant, I offered her my hand and she accepted it with reluctance and wariness as if she was too proud to let me help her. The moment her small hand touched mine, I felt the warmth that spread all the way through my body until it reached its peak in my chest. It felt like her palm fell perfectly into mine, as if they were two pieces of the same puzzle.
As I helped her up and took in her appearance, all of my thoughts were disrupted by the unexpected worry I felt for the frightened girl in front of me.
"Are you okay?" I asked in the softest voice I could produce. The last thing I wanted to do was to scare her.
After bringing her breathing to normal, she nodded and then slowly lifted her head and I was welcomed by the mesmerizing beauty of her dark chocolate eyes. Like never before, their power defeated me, and apart from that damned night, this was the first time I had completely lost control of my actions and I kissed her almost as if I needed her in order to survive. As her soft lips trembled against mine, I could sense her innocence and it was obvious she was taken aback by this, but—unlike the previous night—she didn't push me away. The right thing to do would be to step away from her, but I couldn't bring myself to do that. My usually exercised control was gone and I was stuck ... in paradise. Even though I was dying to give her a long and passionate kiss, I knew I had to take it slow no matter how painful it was to restraint myself. At first, I only brushed my lips against hers, giving her the time to get used to the idea that we were being that close to each other. Patiently, I waited for her to stop shaking, to stop being afraid, and when I looked at her with tenderness only she could make me produce, her eyes lit up with that sparkle I longed to see for so long and she stilled in my arms. Slowly, I started deepening the kiss and savoring the sweet taste that took over all of my senses. It never felt this good. She was like a drug. The more I took, the more I wanted. At that moment I knew that it would never be enough. She owned me.
As if she was guided by heavenly strings, her body completely relaxed against mine and I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling of her closeness. Hundreds of times, I had imagined how kissing her would feel like and the reality of it was so enticing that it had managed to surpass my wildest imagination. She tasted like honey. She smelled like roses. She felt like a soft midnight mist spreading everywhere around me. The allure of her beauty had completely captivated me and all of the sudden I got carried away, thinking about how sorry I was for hurting this embodiment of goodness in so many different and cruel ways.
As the sickening feeling of regret squeezed around my heart, I yearned to make it up to her. With growing need, I continued kissing her almost desperately as if a was a thirsty man in the desert and she was my oasis filled with the life providing water. The feeling of relief rushed through me when she softly moaned in my mouth, letting me know she wanted this as much as I did. Hundreds of enticing images appeared before my eyes as I savored thr addictive flavor of heaven and an unbearable heat started rising in my body. Though I knew it was aware it was time to stop, I wanted to steal just another moment before pulling her in my arms and telling her how much she meant to me. But I didn't get a chance to do that.
Disrupted by the feeling of my arousal, her body suddenly froze and a muffled sob echoed across the room, breaking our kiss. As if I was burned by fire, I stepped away from her and observed as her face turned to misery.
"Isabelle," I whispered her name and my hand reached towards her, wanting to offer reassurance and comfort, but she stepped away from me.
The moment she wrapped her hands around herself, heavy pressure settled in my chest. More than ever, it was hard to see that she felt the need to protect herself from me. She didn't have to say a word, I knew all too well what was going through her mind. She felt guilty for giving in to my kiss, probably thinking I wanted to use it against her because of that damned contract that managed to ruin both of our lives. Shivering in fear, she took small breaths like a frightened wounded dove. No matter how much I wanted to offer her the safety of my arms, I knew I couldn't make a single move, because she would get away from my reach.
All of the sudden, as if something broke inside her, she stormed to the balcony and I remained staring after her in defeat. The scent of her cashmere skin continued lurking around me, tempting me to go after her and do something to make it better. Although I had no idea what to say or do, I gave in to the feeling of restlessness and quietly walked to the balcony. When I stepped outside, I was stunned by the sight of my wife, trembling with her shoulders dropped in defeat.
"Why did you run away?" I asked in a low voice, pretending to be oblivious to her reasons even though I knew very well why she left.
There was a slight chance she would open up to me and talk about all the things that frightened her, but somehow I thought my question could encouraged her to do just that. After she remained silent for a few moments, still trapped in her fragile state of mind, I gently touched her shoulder, consoling her in the only way I knew how. A shiver passed through her frail body and slowly, she turned to face me, but she wouldn't look me in the eyes and it killed me to watch her drown in sadness and shame. For a couple of times, I tried to get her to look at me because I wanted to convince her there wasn't anything she should feel embarrassed about, but she decisively resisted my every attempt to reach out to her.
"Please, look at me," I said in a tortured voice, unsure of what to do if she didn't.
When she looked away from me, I felt completely helpless and the only thing I could do was wait for her to decide if and when she was ready to confront me. Moments of painful silence passed by, and her eyes remained glued on the sky. It was clear that she was overwhelmed and still busy processing what had happened.
"I can't look at you," a silent whisper filled with desperation suddenly broke through the silence.
Remorse and anger tore through me and, exhaling harshly to compose myself, I stepped towards her without thinking about the effect my presence would have on her. She didn't step away this time, but her quivering revealed she still felt threatened by me. I looked at her with a feeling I used to believe I was unable to produce - compassion.
"Isabelle, there was nothing wrong with that kiss," I said convincingly because that kiss was the most sincere and purest thing I'd ever shared with anyone.
"Then why does it feel so wrong?" She looked at me with mistrust that seemed to be stronger than ever and it became impossible to ignore the inner voice that urged me to come clean to her.
An avalanche, triggered by Isabelle's innocent question streamed through me and I couldn't hold it in anymore.
"It feels wrong because you think I had the wrong intentions. Like..." I closed my eyes, realizing I would have to say it whether I liked it or not. "Like that night when I've made the biggest mistake of my life." She gasped in shock and pain tore through me, when I saw that even the slightest mention of that night brought her to the verge of tears. "I know. I know, Isabelle," I said softly, as the images of my shameless behavior kept interchanging before my eyes. "I'm a terrible man and I deserve to rot in hell for the pain I've caused you." It felt foreign to actually say the words that were hanging on the tip of my tongue for so long, but it was the right thing to do and even though she probably wasn't ready to have this conversation, I couldn't stop the domino effect and take back what I'd said and still needed to say.
My heart started beating loudly as my lips parted to form the words that should have been spoken long ago.
I'm sorry. Please, forgive me.