3 -EMBARASSING

MORGANA FOSTER

A thin pain agonized in my chest. Hearing the word 'divorce' come out of his mouth hurt much more than reading the file did. I felt my eyes water and I looked down, blinking a few times to get rid of the tears before they fell right there.

Why had I fallen in love with him if he didn't treat me with any affection?

There was no love or affection. Just a theater of smiles during visits and important meetings. I wouldn't look sad about it, I had promised myself that he wouldn't see me crying because of him. Not after all the nights he'd slept away with “sweet Elena”.

With a roll of my eyes, I cleared my throat and answered: “I know everything will be alright.” I sighed and looked away, I needed to be strong. “Tomorrow I'll sign it. Excuse me, I have to pack my things.”

So I got up from the sofa with a bitter, disdainful smile. Marching towards the kitchen Ryan raised an intrigued eyebrow and I could feel his gaze following me the whole way.

I know he didn't expect this reaction from me, since according to him this wedding had been set up by his grandfather and me. And in his eyes, I would always be that selfish woman from the past.

But little did he know that she was nothing like the one standing in front of him.

In the large modern kitchen, I opened the fridge to find something to eat. My stomach was rumbling and cooking was also distracting me. I grabbed some strawberries and sat down on the stool in front of the counter that complemented the island. Constantly fighting with my mind not to cry until Ryan wasn't home.

Why didn't I fall in love with someone else during those three years at university?

I had a boyfriend before all that, but I wouldn't have dared propose to him after the way we broke up.

That man only married me out of pity. What more would he want with me? That's fine! I wasn't ugly, I had round features, big brown eyes, long black hair that curled at the ends and although I didn't work out, my body wasn't badly distributed. Even though I considered myself a pretty girl, I didn't dare compare my beauty with Elena's. 

The woman sculpted beauty itself. She had blonde hair and white, well-kept skin, blue eyes. Slim and tall. Whenever she met me, she was impeccably groomed and kind. At least in front of Ryan. When we were alone, Elena would always throw hints and beg me to give him a divorce.

I always ignored her, not because I was comfortable with the situation, but because my hands were tied.

So I avoided her like a scab.

In a jolt, I was snapped out of my reveries when Ryan walked into the kitchen shirtless. My jaw dropped and so did the strawberry in my hand. The man really was a semi-god, anyone could easily be attracted to him.

His black pants showed off his shapely, tapered waist with eight sections of divided muscle, his serious face matched perfectly with his lean, lean body, his black hair still wet from the shower and a T-shirt thrown over his shoulder made the sight even more sensual. He stopped in front of the fridge and picked up a bottle of water, realizing he was being watched:

“Is something wrong?” He arched his eyebrow and took a sip from the bottle, making his Adam's apple rise and fall.

That simple gesture warmed my body and the heat rose up my neck. “Is there a problem, Miss Foster?" he asked again, coming dangerously close.

My heart began to race in my chest as he approached.

Shaking my head, I said no. Unable to say anything that wouldn't embarrass me with all the indecent things that were going through my mind, I did nothing pure.

As he approaches the counter, my body shudders involuntarily and small electric currents run through me. He leans against the counter and reaches out to take an apple from the basket, without taking his eyes off mine.

The sight of his bare chest passing me by and exuding the musky scent of his expensive perfume. Making me want to reach out and touch his chest.

Those damn deep blue eyes distracted me, my face instantly flushed, I closed my eyes and inhaled that devilish perfume he wore again. I pressed my lips together and with what little strength I had, I pulled away.

“I've got to go.” I said as I practically ran up the stairs in an attempt to escape the situation.

I could hear him laugh and the rustle of him putting on his T-shirt.

I was tempted to look back.

‘Just a glance’. - I thought, but shook my head and kept walking until I reached the stairs and went up to the bedroom.

At the first door I found a room decorated in gray tones. There was nothing under the bed but a few pillows, two bedside tables, lamps and a white curtain covering the window. There's also a rug at the foot of the bed and two doors. I looked around the room carefully.

There's a huge bathroom on the first door and a closet on the other. Ryan's things are organized there and smell magnificent. I soon realized that this wasn't going to be my room, but looking in the corner, I spotted the suitcases I'd brought earlier in the day in a corner.

I look again to make sure I'm not seeing things. They were my suitcases. Still confused, I dragged them out to find another room. Which wasn't difficult. The mansion probably had five or six bedrooms. Grandpa Burke always imagined that we would have several children to fill the house, but that never happened.

He wouldn't even look at me. I walked down the corridor for a few minutes until I found the second door; luckily this room was empty. I rested a little on the doorstep before entering. It wasn't that much smaller than the previous room, it also had an en-suite and a dressing room, and the view from the small balcony overlooked the main garden, which would make the view very beautiful in the morning.

I nodded, and we went out to the car. The truth was that the outfit accentuated my beauty. And even though Ryan wasn't in a real marriage, he didn't like anyone coveting what was his. Especially his wife. This possessive air always hung over us.