Caroline’s eyes zeroed in on the reddish patch of skin on her upper cheek.
This couldn’t be happening, she told herself in her head for the third time that night. But of course it was happening— she saw no point in denying it to herself. It was only obvious she fell right into the same trap as she had with Tristan. Everything always changed after the marriage.
Because there was no more need to keep up with the pretences. The façade.
And Care wondered why fell for the mask every damn time.
Her hand shook slightly as her fingers rose to touch the sensitive skin. But she froze, stopping midway when her eyes found the reflection of the grey ones she’d fallen in love with last year, on the vanity mirror above her dresser.
Logan stood there, staring at her for a whole minute, unspeaking, before carefully shutting the door behind him.
He sighed and knelt in front of the dresser’s stool where she was sat, his tall frame allowing him to remain at eye-level with her. Taking her hands gently in his, he kissed them tenderly.
His actions, his grip— ever so gentle and cautious that it made the bruise on Care’s cheek almost non-existent. Except that it was there. And even if the bruise were to fade and not leave a scar behind, the pain would undoubtedly serve as a constant reminder.
Reminder that she fell for it again. Men like him were a glowing fire, shining so bright it blinded her from all signs of caution. And she— oh, she was the stupid, gullible moth.
She saw the flames— the light, went after it, even. She just never remembered it burnt too.
---
Care woke up to the strong smell of caffeine attacking her nose.
Squinting and struggling to open her eyes, she finally gained clarity in her vision, her gaze settling on the steaming mug of coffee beside the plate of toast and scrambled eggs.
A small wave of warmth washed through her but the smile was supressed as her eyes landed on the person responsible for the surprise breakfast-in-bed.
He smiled and the world began spinning under her feet. It was like seeing an angel in the flesh.
But how could she let herself feel that way when just last night he’d been the furthest thing to an angel and the closest to a devil?
She’d fallen for those eyes— those incredibly deep grey eyes. She’d sworn to herself she felt like there was a storm brewing behind them when she first looked into those orbs. And now she knew she’d been right.
The storm wasn’t a burning passion though. It was just a ball of rage and hatred and insecurities in the form of lightning bolts, waiting to strike whenever there was a dark cloud hanging over them. Whenever the situation got out of hand or Logan was having a bad day.
He stepped towards her and set the tray on the bedside table before seating himself on the bed, right next to Care. She scooted over on reflex, allowing him space to settle comfortably.
“Hey,” he murmured, the throaty morning voice of his tugging at her heartstrings despite everything.
She loved him— she did. She couldn’t help it. But she knew… she knew deep down that he was another Tristan, just like Tristan had been an image of her own father. It just went on and on and on. And Care could feel the weariness slowly creeping up her bones.
When she didn’t respond, he leant forward and nestled his head into her weak spot, in the soft curve where her neck and shoulder met. He was aware the intimate gesture would undo her, chip away at her resolve… because he knew her like the back of his hand and that factor seemed to be working to his benefit right now.
“I’m sorry, love,” he groaned softly into her neck, his breath fanning over her collar bone with each word that tumbled out his mouth.
How was she not supposed to melt at the feel of his lips against her skin as they grazed the sensitive area right at the base of her neck?
Logan lifted his head and once again, she felt those burn into hers with so much feeling in them. He leaned closer, resting his forehead against hers while a soft sigh escaped his mouth. “You’ll forgive me won’t you?” he pleaded, pressing down his body against hers and she couldn’t stifle the moan that left her lips against her will when every fibre of him touched every inch of her skin.
They were both fully clothed, but she could still feel the body heat radiating off him and seeping into her own flesh, battling against the confinements of the fabric covering their bodies.
And just like that, her resolve crumbled. So she moved her arms which had been by her side all along and placed them on each side of his chiselled face. Her right thumb trailed down his jawline, his two-day stubble feeling like soft grass under her fingertip.
“Yeah,” she smiled up at him, “of course I’d forgive you.”
He breathed in relief and relaxed his tensed muscles, melting into her completely, and claiming her lips in a way that was pure magic to Care.
---
Two days had passed since Logan ever raised his hand to Care and everything seemed well in her world again. In fact, everything was so much better.
She’d been receiving bouquets after bouquets of roses as an apology; she was showered and spoilt with gifts varying from a pair of uncut diamond ear studs to romantic candlelight dinners in yachts and high-end restaurants.
Dinner was over and Eva was asleep in her room as both Care and her husband lay cooped up on the sofa together.
“You’re sure we’re good, right?” he asked worriedly and Care’s heart only melted further. He was nothing like Tristan. Tristan never paid her this kind of attention, even during his best days.
“Of course babe, I already told you— we’re good.” She brought their joined hands to her mouth and kissed the tips of his fingers one by one.
“That’s good,” he nodded as he untangled his hand from hers and wrapped it around her waist instead. “I hate making you cry, you know. I don’t wanna hurt you, hun. I really don’t.” He rested his chin atop her shoulder and tilted his head towards hers. “But you do realise why I lost my temper don’t you, babe? You do see that it was your fault, right?”
Care froze— she’d already been lying still in his arms but she froze in the sense that a certain coldness seemed to wash through her in a single wave. Slowly, gradually, it took its time reaching out to every corner of her until it filled her up whole and all traces of bliss was obliterated by sickening despair.
The realisation hit her like a ton of bricks being hurled at a blank wall.
It was Tristan all over again.
The eventual blaming… the mentality that what he did to Care was actually her own fault… it was the goddamn past repeating itself all over again.
And it drained her of all emotion to realise that she indeed had fallen for the wolf in sheep's clothing a second time.
Care felt like something in her just died. And she didn’t know if she’d ever get it back.
“You know I don’t like it when other guys hit on you. You’re not supposed to talk to them, okay, love?” his arms tightened around her possessively. “In fact, just don’t speak to any other man at all, alright? There’s no need for you to anyway. You’re my wife now.”
Care closed her eyes shut, swallowing before nodding to what he was saying. She had to agree.
She had to agree if she didn’t want to end the night with fresh wounds and greet the next morning with new bruises.
“Right,” she forced herself to say, “You’re right. I won’t.”
And in that moment, something in Caroline Monroe shifted— an idea, an escape route so faint, floated listlessly at the back of her mind… one that would be triggered time and time again in the near future until she finally found it in her to go through with it.
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Written on ; 03rd July 2016
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Few more chapters, guys. Few more chapters and bam! We'll be meeting a sixteen year old Eva. ;)
I've got messages saying that I'm breaking hearts with my chapters and as sorry as I am, I'm also really happy my writing has that effect on my lovely readers :))