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2024-08-06 01:25:44What a bitch!
"I didn't miss out. You trapped me!" I retort.
"Don't accuse me of something so serious. You probably fell asleep and forgot," she counters dismissively.
"I was ready! You cheated!" I lunge forward, propelled by a surge of raw emotion, my fists clenched in a futile attempt to reclaim some semblance of control.
Slap!
The sharp sting of Mariah's hand across my cheek reverberates through the room, leaving a searing mark of humiliation that serves as a painful reminder of my vulnerability in this twisted game of power and manipulation.
"Do you dare raise your voice at me, you insolent bitch? Understand that there's a new ruler in this domain, and it's me. You will show me the reverence I deserve," she declares, her eyes ablaze with victorious malice, each word dripping with venom. "Ethan made a mistake in the past when he chose you, but I won't let him make that mistake again."
I raise my hand in a futile gesture of retaliation, fueled by boiling anger and the sting of betrayal. But before I can unleash my fury, a vice-like grip clamps around my wrist, forcefully halting my movement.
Ethan.
Ethan defending Mariah.
"Do not you dare touch her!"
Mariah rushes to Ethan's side, clutching him tightly as if seeking refuge from a storm. "She wanted to hit me, Ethan, just because I was ready on time and she wasn't..." Mariah's voice quivers with false emotion, tears glistening in her eyes. "She thinks I am trying to steal her place," she sobs, her words dripping with melodrama.
"You fucking liar," I seethe, advancing towards them, but Ethan swiftly interposes himself, shielding Mariah from my wrath.
"Blair, enough!" Ethan's voice reverberates through the room, laced with frustration and warning. "Mariah is a friend, a guest, and I will not tolerate you treating her with violence."
"Ethan, she..." I try to protest, but Ethan's stern gaze silences me.
"Retract!" he commands, his tone brooking no argument.
Mariah's smirk widens, her eyes glinting with triumph as she revels in my predicament.
"Immediately!" Ethan's demand hangs in the air like a thunderclap, the tension palpable as I struggle to comply.
"I won't apologize for calling her what she is: a hooker," I declare defiantly, my voice trembling with suppressed rage.
Ethan closes the distance between us with purposeful strides, his gaze piercing mine with simmering anger. As he looms closer, I instinctively retreat, the weight of his disapproval bearing down on me like an oppressive force.
How far would he go to protect Mariah?
"Why do you have issues with everyone around us? Can't you see that the biggest problem is you?" His words land like a heavy blow. "It has always been you."
"I've never been treated so rudely, baby. Blair is malevolent," Mariah interjects, her tone dripping with disdain as she glares at me.
"Apologize," Ethan's voice rumbles low and threatening.
Feeling the weight of his displeasure, I swallow my pride and utter the words he expects, though they taste bitter on my tongue. "I am sorry, Mariah," I whisper, my voice barely audible.
They step away, Ethan leading Mariah towards the stairs with a gentle yet firm grip on her hand, leaving me stranded in a sea of solitude.
"Why? Why do you care about her?" I choke out, the words laced with a desperation I can't contain, tears threatening to betray the turmoil within me.
"I am tired, Blair," Ethan responds, his voice devoid of tenderness.
"It's your birthday. I bought a present, and you haven't even opened it," I protest, the weight of disappointment heavy in my chest, each word a painful reminder of our fractured bond.
"Things don't need to be difficult and dramatic," he counters wearily, his weariness palpable. "If you're too stressed, take the jet. Go on a trip."
"I don't need a trip," I retort, the bitterness in my voice betraying the depth of my anguish.
"And what do you need?" Ethan's gaze meets mine, but it's clouded with distance. His fingers intertwined with Mariah's, a cruel reminder of the chasm that now separates us.
As he retrieves his phone from the inner pocket of his jacket, a surge of despair washes over me. He's going to make a bank transfer or call one of his employees to attend to me, I realize with a sinking heart.
Ethan's indifference is palpable, a bitter truth I can no longer deny. The realization hits me like a sledgehammer, shattering the illusions I've clung to for so long.
He doesn't love me. He doesn't care about me.
I fought hard for his forgiveness. But he never wanted to forgive me. All this time, he was intent on revenge. Ethan wanted to betray me, hurt me, and watch me bleed. Just like I did to him.
And why should I continue to pour my love and care into someone who offers me nothing in return?
The answer is clear: I shouldn't.
I release myself from the chains of obligation that bind me to Ethan Banks. I owe him nothing, not my love, not my loyalty, not my devotion!
"A divorce," I say the words I should have said a long time ago.
I walk to the elevator and press the button. Ethan doesn't believe me, as he remains motionless on the stairs. Meanwhile, Mariah smiles behind him.
Ethan doesn't realize that I was giving him the greatest birthday present possible: a clear path to move forward with Mariah.
With a brutal twist of my hand, I rip the ring off my finger, flinging it mercilessly to the ground, where it lands with a sharp clatte.
"Do not you dare leave this apartment," Ethan murmurs, his voice strained with urgency, as he descends the stairs.
But it's too late.
As I step into the elevator and press the button for the ground floor, Ethan rushes towards me, his eyes pleading, his voice cracking with desperation as he cries out, "Blair!"
"Goodbye," I mouth silently.
And the doors close before he can reach me, cutting off his anguished plea and leaving me alone in the suffocating silence of our shattered marriage.
Ethan's fists pound against the sturdy steel door, a futile attempt to halt my departure.
As the elevator begins its descent, I can feel the weight of finality settling in.
The receptionist's eyes widen as the grand doors swing open, the phone clutched tightly in his hand. Ethan's authoritative call still echoes in the air.
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There’s a pause, and in the silence I feel the weight of everything he’s not saying. The desperation of searching for someone the whole world said was lost. The crushing hope, followed by the crumbling, each time he thought he’d found me only to discover it was someone else. The pain of living between belief and resignation, over and over again.His fingers, still hovering in the air, finally move. They touch my face, light and hesitant, as if he fears I might disappear at any moment. The touch is warm, but his fingers tremble, and it breaks something inside me.He's trying to be strong, but he can't hide the vulnerability that pulsates beneath the surface."It's you now," he says, and the certainty in his voice is almost palpable. As if, after so long, he can finally breathe.He smiles, but the smile isn’t what I remember. It’s not confident or charming. It’s small, fragile, and so full of sadness that it stings my eyes.There's something devastating about seeing him like this. That
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My head moves slowly, against my will, as if an invisible thread were pulling me towards him. I don't want to look. I don't want to see. But fear and curiosity push me towards the inevitable realization that he is there, real, so close that even the air seems charged with his presence.My gaze first drops to the floor, to his shoes. A pair of casual sneakers, simple but they bring back memories that refuse to stay buried. Then my eyes move up to his legs. Black jeans, fitted, worn at the knees as if they’ve survived more than just time.My heart races, but I keep going. I glance down at his torso, noticing the dark sweater he’s wearing, elegant but in a casual way that only Ethan can pull off. He never had to try so hard to look… dangerous and attractive at the same time. He just was.It takes me longer than it should to look up at his face. As if my subconscious knew that this would be the point of no return. When I finally allow myself to look, I feel my heart almost stop.His beard
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The valet hesitates, looking at the now-gone car, and shakes his head, clearly confused. "I... I'm not sure. No one important, sir."Nobody important?“No,” I breathe deeply, trying to control the rising panic. “No, I know what I saw. She was important.” The emptiness of the street around me seems to grow, to swallow me. I no longer know if I’m speaking to him or to myself."Ethan!" Carter is behind me now, his voice full of concern and something else. He reaches out to me, taking my arm. "What are you doing? What's going on?"I look at him, my face tense, anger and fear mixed together. "She was here. She was here," I hiss, unsure if he'll understand the depth of what I'm saying."Who?" Carter asks, his voice low, full of confusion and concern.He cups my face in his hands, as if trying to check if I'm feverish, if my mind is somewhere far away. His fingers press against my skin, but I barely feel them."Blair," I whisper, almost as if my voice is a distant memory, an attempt to captu
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She finishes the glass in a single gulp, her gaze fixed on the horizon, as if she were losing herself in the lights of the city below. I follow her, drinking in her image, still immersed in my own thoughts."Good wines are not wasted," she murmurs with a seductive smile, her red lips almost provocative. The flirtation is clear, and for a moment, I find myself contemplating whether this is what I really want. But soon the answer comes silently: I am no longer the man who fell for this kind of game.When was the last time I was with a woman? The question resurfaces in my mind, and I know the answer. I know Blair was the last. There has never been another after her, despite the attempts, the distractions. No woman has been able to replace the space she left, not even for a moment. It grips me, swallows me, in a way I don't know how to escape."It's not wasted," I confirm, more to myself than to her. The sound of my own voice seems distant.The blonde steps forward, her plunging neckline
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