EllaMy skin feels hot as the words Elijah has uttered hit me in waves. He wants to know more about me? Also, how does he know about my marriage to George? It seems like no one can put together that I'm the same Ella he'd married several years ago. Every person acts as if that woman could not possibly be me.But that was the entire point of the charade, wasn't it? To appear as an entirely different woman. But now, I stand here and stare at Elijah, trying to interpret what he's said. He could mean he's interested in knowing how my marriage ended. He could be thinking about knowing when the marriage ended, the amount of time we've been apart, or maybe even why."Oh?" is all I can find myself saying. Way to go, Ella. You look like a fool.I'm not going to sit here and assume the man has romantic feelings for me. It's silly, truly, to ponder Elijah speaking to me only because he still holds a soft spot in his heart for me. We're both grown adults. We can discuss business and our live
GeorgeI inhale her scent, somehow realizing it's something I never did enough in the past. She smells like something delectable... What is it? I can't place it. Has this been what she always moved through the world wearing? A scent so tricky to my nose? A scent that reminds me of rainy days in the house where cookies were baked or a full turkey would be brined. This woman was my wife for three years. How, as I move into her space, am I unable to find the smell I can't remember in the house?It's not a common one. It's not like those meals, the desserts, or even her hair products. Those were sweet-smelling. I remember that much, seeing as I'd fuck her after she lathered her hair and dug her nails into my shoulder.I turn my neck to the side at this, closing my eyes as the memory rushes in so fast I can't stop it. The twitch rushes through my skin as I try to calm myself as quickly as my brain fills with the days and nights with her."Let go of me," Ella rumbles. "We're going to
Ella"Here." I stare at what George is trying to hand me and for a moment I'm not quite sure what I'm looking at until it hits me. It's a credit card. No, a bank card. "I've loaded it with two million monthly cap. If you need more though, just call Miss Cates and she'll top it off for you." He says it easily, as if this isn't a full-on insult to me. After three years, he is giving me a bank card. Back when we were married, I didn't even have one. All the groceries were taken care of by the maids. I might have done chores and cooked, but all I had to do was ask them to pick something up and they would. If I needed clothes or needed to do personal shopping for myself I would have to ask for money, and while George would give it, he always had something to say, making asking for it to be awkward. It got to the point that most of the clothing I owned was gifted because it was 'suitable' for his wife and not really my style. So, despite being married to an extremely rich man,
GeorgeAs I stare at my case files, not a single word seems to register in my head. I shouldn't be doing this, I have work to take care of, a company to run, but I can't stop thinking about last night. Back then it felt as if I lost control the moment I saw her, clothes clinging to her skin, her hair dark, curling against her cheeks, the flush of her skin...To hold her in my arms after so long, body pressed up against mine and my lips against hers... The last time we'd been intimate was so long ago, even before the divorce. Doing such a risque thing outside was new too, something that we never did when we were married. Sex was usually sweeter, with Ella pliant and obedient under me, and afterwards she'd cuddle up in my arms and we'd fall asleep together.That time in the alley had been different. Intense, yes, but Ella has changed. It wasn't so sweet and indulgent, she seemed completely indifferent to what was happening, as if it was just an act to chase physical pleasure.
GeorgeMarrying Ella hadn't been a mistake, but allowing her to divorce me was. There is unfortunately no easy fix for this, seeing as she has no intention of remarrying me. I am unsure how to go about rescinding our divorce too. It's not so simple when it was mutually agreed upon, and taking the case to court would be laughable. From an outsider's point of view I came out of that case as the winner, losing nothing but my marital status. Convincing her to marry me will not be easy, but the more I think about it, the more I don't want to let this lie. I want Ella back and, as stubborn as she is being about this, I know there is a chance TO get her back.As soon as the music stops, the crowd applauds and Ella takes a bow. I slowly make my way up to the stage and as I do, I see Elijah's people start to approach her. They are his, of course; it's easy to pick out these sorts of things after working in court cases for so long, seeing who is linked to who, who works for who and all
GeorgeI can't help the hunger that grows from deep within me. It's strange, to say the least, that I even stop to process these feelings. In the past, there'd be no stop. There'd be no thinking. My dick would need taking care of, and then I'd get exactly what I needed from my wife.But that's what caused the problems in the first place. Not just my dick, but the entire idea that Ella is ever more than the woman I married. I look at this absolutely stunning beauty, knowing I'd never even considered my actions before. But now, as I lean closer into Ella's space, I can't stop myself from the hunger welling up inside.I feel her soft skin with my hand, caressing her cheek as I watch her slowly blink at me. She is still drunk, which I'm still not used to seeing, and I question how this marriage has ended up in this mess.Lips meet as we stop on the stairwell, as I breathe in every single scent she holds. Even though she is still smelling like a liquor store, I can't possibly be expecte
GeorgeThe sound of chirping birds reaches my ears, causing me to slowly wake up. Disoriented from not remembering how I fell asleep, I let my eyes open just a crack, dawn breaking outside my window and sun starting to stream in.Morning. I can't even remember the last time I slept through a night. And all because...I turn and look at Ella, asleep beside me, though she's in the middle of what looks to be a fitful sleep. Her skin is slick with sweat, and she moans with discomfort in her sleep. Something's wrong.I reach over and feel her forehead, careful not to be too forceful and wake her up. She must be having a nightmare because she's unable to form coherent sentences and twitches every minute or so."The horse is in the lake."I lean back and blink at this sentence. Well, whatever nightmare she's having, it seems to be an interesting one.Grabbing my phone off the nightstand, I walk out of my bedroom and quickly dial a doctor. Though Ella may be a great name in her field, t
EllaI groan as my hand finds its way to my forehead, sweat abundant at the smallest of touches. Ugh, this is absolutely gross. I can't even remember the last time I sweated in my sleep. I normally only sweat in my sleep when I'm getting sick, seeing as my body temperature can't handle the sickness.My mind tries to remember what led to being here. It's tough fighting through the fuzzy memory from the previous night. I finally open my eyes just a sliver, and the sight gives me the jolt I need to remember the worst parts of the day before.I remember the Forest Hotel. I remember the alcohol. I remember George demanding to take me home...I sit up, seeing the villa around me, and more memories flood back: the car ride back here, the intimacy shared between the two of us. The way he tried to carry me inside and I fought against him.The way I pushed him away and told him we were divorced.At least some part of my brain decided to kick in and work last night. How could I let myself g