Chapter 6

I still want Lana

Donovan's POV

I took hold of the vodka cup and poured five shots into my glass, the strong scent wafting from my mouth. A gasp escaped me as I continued to consume one shot after another until a pounding headache set in, a consequence of my excessive drinking. I struggled to focus on the surrounding clarity, but it offered little relief.

"Donovan, what is driving you to drink?" Sarah queried, her gaze fixed on me as she forcefully snatched the vodka glass from my hands, nearly causing me to feel faint. Anger boiled within me at this action. "I do not require your assistance, woman; I desire solitude," I retorted, reaching for another glass to pour more vodka. However, she swiftly swept her hand across the bar, sending the entire drink shattering to the floor. "Do not feign indifference with me; I know you are pining for her, Donovan. Just admit that her wealth is driving you to distraction," she shouted.

“Whose wealth is in question? Were you truly unaware of the humiliation she inflicted upon me during the grand opening?” I let out a sigh, attempting to soothe the pain within me, a pain difficult to suppress when it involves someone who should be a symbol of eternity. I pondered my next steps when Sarah proposed an outrageous notion. “

What if she had murdered her husband to attain such riches?” She inched closer to me, but my eyelids felt too heavy to meet her gaze.

“I cannot entertain your absurdity, Sarah. If you are capable of dismantling someone's home by destroying their relationship, then perhaps you are capable of murder as well; however, Lana is not like you,” I remarked, my voice barely rising above a whisper. I attempted to rise but found myself too inebriated to move purposefully.

“Are we discussing the purity of Lana at this moment?” She suddenly exclaimed, reaching for my hands, but I withdrew, insisting, "Do not touch me; just allow me to be if you please." I gestured towards the room, leaving her to confront her own fears.

She is aware of how absurd she appears when claiming that Lana may have murdered her husband.

Does she intend to harm me as well? If that is her intention, I possess no valuable assets to offer her, I mused as I continued my way to my room. Upon reaching the door, I paused for a moment to collect myself. I closed my eyes, yet all I could envision was Lana standing confidently before the crowd, of which I was a part, feeling utterly humiliated. How frustrating! I couldn't help but smirk.

I opened the door and entered the room, making my way directly to the mattress. I collapsed onto it, unable to suppress a hiss of frustration. In my agitation, I turned towards the floral verse and, with a swift motion, hurled it to the ground, shattering it into fragments. The sound reverberated throughout the space, and soon after, I heard Sarah's persistent knocking.

"Donavon, please don't hurt yourself," she implored, her voice filled with genuine concern and resolve, yet I found myself consumed by my anger.

“Please give me some space for the moment; I need to gather my thoughts.” I am alright, Sarah, I shouted.

The next sound I heard was that of my standing mirror shattering on the floor. "Aaah!" I growled in frustration. With a sense of calm, I made my way to the ground, sitting beside my bed, my hands gently running through my hair as tears flowed down my cheeks like a delicate stream.

At that moment, the door swung open, and Sarah entered, gripping the door frame as she looked at me with a weak expression. "What have you done, dear? Why did you allow your foolishness to take over?" she inquired, her tone low and threatening.

A rush of adrenaline surged through me as I raised my eyebrows, glaring at her from beneath my lashes. "Did you just call me foolish?"

“Indeed, I did. What is your perspective on this, Donavon? A seemingly unremarkable individual has appeared unexpectedly, and now her sudden presence is causing you distress? Goodness!” She exclaimed, sluggishly approaching me while I curled up on the floor like a child overwhelmed by a downpour.

"Wait, do not regard me in that manner," she stated, squatting down to collect shards of glass, which I observed absentmindedly. My heart raced when she hurled a sharp fragment in my direction, prompting me to evade it. "What on earth! Are you attempting to harm me?" I inquired, gazing at her in astonishment.

"Yes, I wish to harm you if you continue to lament over a woman who has exited your life and subsequently married a man she later murdered." Her words struck me profoundly, compelling me to rise abruptly and confront her, my breath warm against her skin as I grasped her neck firmly.

“Do not speak of Lana in that manner,” I sighed, taken aback by her intense gaze. She remained resolute, her feet firmly planted on the ground, as she opened her eyes and rolled them repeatedly.

“Do you believe I will be swayed by your current intentions? Go ahead, end my life over Lana and rot in prison, Donovan,” she warned. I felt a sense of weakness; why was I inflicting harm upon her when Lana is merely my ex-wife? It is unjust. I released her, and she swiftly adjusted her dress.

Her final look at me filled me with remorse. “I am sorry, Sarah; I should not have treated you this way.” I apologized, retreating gently until I reached the edge of my mattress, shaking my head in regret.

It is acceptable, just ensure this place is tidied up, as I will not be responsible for your mess, she remarked, leaving me to confront my disarray. “I love you, Sarah!” I called out as she exited, but her reply left me feeling desolate.

“Convey that to Lana; perhaps she will value it more than I do, Donovan. Cease the pretense.”