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Sixty-one
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2024-10-29 19:42:56None of us attempts to break off our staring bout, the anger, hurt, every emotion I feel is transferred into the glare directed at him. His lips press into a thin line, my nails dig into my jean and I grit my teeth to quell my rising anger. I want to inflict the same level of pain on him, whack him on the head like the unwanted mole he has become.
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Ping. Ping. Ping. I wake up with a start, my eyelids flutter open and a groan slips past my lips as my gaze lands on the ceiling. The vibrations coming from under my pillow cease, I
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Without another thought, I put my account on private. I don't want fame if it comes with this amount of hate from people who have not met me and might never. I was satisfied with my former followers, their good vibes, hype comments and positivity were enough.
Mr Reluctant Billionaire Sixty-four
"What did Josh want?" Clarissa asks, pulling me by the hand into the kitchen. She stops at the counter with a bunch of banana, a frown crawls to her lips. "What did he say?"I burst into humourless laughter, shaking my head as her small frame takes a seat on the counter, it took her eight days to ask. She pouts while squinting, I stick my tongue out and whip my long ponytail, causing her to do the same. A laugh escapes me as the tip of her hair brushes my face,
Mr Reluctant Billionaire Sixty-five
Laughter escapes my lips, she winks and I throw my head back. This girl. She licks her lips and cracks her knuckles in a supposed gangster style. I scoff. Between both of us, we can't hurt a fly, the most we can do is fight with our mouth but she is better at it."Alright, bitch, playtime is over," she says in a voice eerily similar to Riley Freeman, I shake my head. This is what happens when I let her binge watch Boondocks for the umpteenth time. "Let's get to
Mr Reluctant Billionaire Sixty-six
I push the surprisingly open door, a soft sigh escapes me as my feet carry me in the direction of the kitchen so I can wet my parched throat and my arms wrap around me. My heart clenches at the memory that springs up on me when my eyes fleet to the entrance of the kitchen, the image of Brandon standing there in all his handsome glory.
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Her eyes lift from the files on the desk, the chair clatters to the ground as she rushes to engulf me in a hug like we are old friends reuniting after a decade. I stiffen in her arms, my hands glue to my sides as she squeezes me in an embrace. Letting go with an arm still wrapped around my wrist, she pouts and I cringe at her overly bright smile.
Mr Reluctant Billionaire Sixty-eight
Pregnant? I snort in disbelief, folding my legs underneath me as I reprimand myself for letting Sophia’s words linger in my head. Nothing positive comes out of her mouth, why did I expect that to change today? Propping my elbow on the table, I nibble on the last of the chocolates I stole, eyeing the empty wraps strewn across the table. I am a big mess.Unable to block out Sophia’s voice, I open my phone’s browser to Google spotting, the possibility of young women spotting during pregnancy and I suck in a sharp breath at the information displayed in front of me. My eyes water, I shake my head and let my phone slip through my fingers, this is bullcrap. They are in collaboration with Sophia.Why haven’t I thrown up yet? Why don’t I have the usual morning sickness? I have lost my appetite and that’s normal for me, a lot of women. But I haven’t felt dizzy or many of the symptoms they are kind to list off
Mr Reluctant Billionaire Sixty-nine
Tension hangs over us like a wet blanket, I sniff, willing the overenthusiastic tears to dry up. My fingers blindly reach for the duvet, Brandon pulls it over me with a sigh. I mutter my gratitude but remain curled at the edge of the bed even when he touches me, stiff as a pole at the contact. I swat his hand on my shoulder, what does he want? I need to rest.
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"You promised," he whispers. He lets go of me to run his hands through his hair. "You promised me, Elna. Your beginning, middle and end." Jumping to his feet, he folds his hands behind his head and murmurs, "You promised. You can't leave me. Baby, please."Unable to look him in the eyes, I bury my face into the pillow and continue shaking my head. I know the answer to his question now, I am so certain of it. Do I still want him? Yes, I will always want him, more than I have ever wanted anyone but I can't have him.Murder is murder and he killed his brother.And it hurts.It hurts every fibre of my being. I love him so much it hurts to think of a future without him. I don't think I can stop loving him but when I look at him, all I see is a killer. If I cannot look past his sins then I shouldn't be in his life. It will be our secret, it's not in my place to tell other people and I am fine with that. I wi
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It is hard.Really hard.
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He doesn't regret it. But he feels bad. What does that mean? I race down the stairs as fast as I can, my car keys dangling in my hand. Hopefully, I look sane with the way I hurriedly dressed and left. I need to talk to Clarissa but about what? Do I want to tell her what Brandon said? What if she calls the police on him? Will she do that? She won't.
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I wake to amber eyes staring down at me. I flash Brandon a sleepy smile, he presses a kiss to my hair and I giggle, he must love my new shampoo. "You slept well?" I ask.He nods, placing another kiss on my temple. "I did, you?" he says against my skin and I hum in response, loving the wet kisses he litters on
Mr Reluctant Billionaire One hundred and twelve
The next day, my phone is pinging with notifications. David shoots me a grateful text I don't reply, I am sure he doesn't expect one, we are not friends. My finger hovers over the delete option on his contact, I hesitate. It won’t hurt to have it so I save his number, something I had failed to do. Bored, I send Brandon an SOS and switch off my phone.Time to take matters into my hands.Bathed, shaved and clad in lace lingerie that barely holds my breasts and reveals my bump, I sit up, legs crossed while awaiting that click that will announce his entrance. He won't talk to me like a normal person and now, I am pissed. And horny. And frustrated.The click to signify his presence sounds, reverberating in the room. I shoot up from the bed as fast as a pregnant woman approaching her third semester can and saunter to the door, swinging my hips. Brandon eyes me from head to toe, the appreciative glint in his gaze is missing but I shrug tha
Mr Reluctant Billionaire One hundred and eleven
Curiosity kills the cat. Satisfaction brings it back. It has to. That is the reason I am in this café, waiting for David after I made the spontaneous decision to see him. I pull my oversized tracksuit over my belly, trying and failing to blend in with the scanty crowd.A wave of nostalgia hits me when someone passes with a tray of fish and chips. I need to call Clarissa. I don't understand how we let life, thesis and coursework pull us apart but we need to meet. Sending her a short text, I roll my lip between my teeth while awaiting her reply. If she replies before David comes, I will cancel our meeting. She comes first.I shouldn't be here.That seems to have become my new mantra and each time, things turn out better than I expect. I hope it's the case today. Taking a swig from the water bottle on the table while I wait for the first person to show up, I try to push the nagging thoughts out of my head.
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Seconds of silence pass, when Josh doesn't seem to be leaving, I ask, "Who is Brendan?""Our brother, Brandon's twin." I blink, my head spins from the sudden information and my thoughts crash to a stop when he adds, "He is dead." Josh's smile is pitiful, I don't know when I move to stand beside him. I pat his shoulder. "He died in an accident."Brandon has a twin, a dead twin. It's all I can think while my hand meets Josh's shoulder in an awkward show of comfort. He pries my hand off him with a smile I don't comment on because of how fake it is. I rub my hand against my hip. Brandon has a dead twin.Seeing how shaken I am by the news, Josh pushes me into his seat, I sink gratefully into it. I shouldn't have asked. My husband should have told me himself. "When did he die?""A while ago."I snap. "How long is a while ago?""Five years," he rep
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Josh catches up to me before I reach the house, he offers me a smile, I shrug. None of this is his fault. We take a seat by the kitchen window, staring at the trio seated inside the gazebo. From our position here, we can't see their lips moving but I can't help wishing they will start a conversation. Talk to each other even if it ends in a screaming bout."Do you think they will reconcile?"Josh snickers. He hops to the fridge like he pays rent and returns with a huge chunk of cake. The leftover I had saved to munch on later because I can't resist anything sugary and his family didn't let me enjoy it. Fleeting anger surges through me, I close my eyes."Nope. Not a chance," he says. I turn to see him dragging another stool close to me.The poise and gracefulness he was forced to adapt when we were outside vanish when he gobbles the cake. I smile foolishly, this is the Josh I know. Slapping his knee, I mot
Mr Reluctant Billionaire One hundred and eight
The gazebo is deathly quiet and the tension promises to suffocate us. Everything is going well, if you count the curt greetings from Brandon's snobbish parents. Queen Elizabeth doesn't hold a candle to Brandon's mother with her prim and proper manners, wrinkles and white hair cropped short. All she needs is a crown and I'll genuflect before her.Brandon's dad is an older beardless version of him with thinning hair. He is so quiet, the kind of quiet that allows his haughty wife freedom to speak to people as she pleases. A minute after exchanging greetings and I can already tell it was a bad idea to invite them.Seated beside Brandon, muscles tight and frustrated at my lack of release, I drum my fingers on my legs hidden under the table. He didn't have to punish me this way. I am pregnant, he shouldn’t leave me horny. One look at him shows that's the least of his worries.He is as tensed as I am, maybe even more and a wave of gu
