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“Let me get the dinner dished up,” I rush out and try to hide the panic that laces my soft voice. I reach for two plates then mash the potatoes before dishing them up along with chicken and vegetables. My nerves vibrate through me, my fingers ache as I try and stop them trembling. Something is wrong.
I ignore the feeling of impending doom that simmers at the bottom of my stomach and turn, smiling wide, trying my hardest to mask the worry that is likely etched onto my face. I walk over to the table before I gently place his plate in front of him and his eyes still don’t meet mine. I tuck my now trembling hand behind my back as I take my own seat before burying both of my hands into my lap to hide the shaking from view.
He normally kisses me on the cheek when he comes home.
He struggled to even look at me today.
I ignore the sting behind my eyes that is intensifying with every passing minute and desperately try to swallow the large lump that has formed in my throat. Grabbing the bottle of red wine from the middle of the table, I pull the cork out and pour us both a glass before placing it back in its exact spot. Luke hasn’t picked his knife and fork up. He just sits, his elbows resting on the table, his fingers locked together as his chin rests on his knuckles, his gaze is misty but focused ahead.
“Luke, what’s wrong… you’re worrying me,” I just about manage, and I try to laugh it off, but it somehow changes from a laugh to a choked sob. I blink softly and feel a lone tear escape and roll down my cheek, my trembling left hand lifts and swipes it away before he can see it. I hear his sharp intake of breath and only then do his icy blues meet mine and I brace myself for what he is about to throw at me; my shoulders sit a little higher, my back a little straighter and my chin lifts as I turn to face him. A copper taste fills my mouth from where I have bit a little too hard on the inside of my cheek to stop my bottom lip from trembling.
“It’s over Aspen. I don’t love you anymore…” he begins, his voice like steel. Hardened, cold, thick.
My lungs crush, the breath catching at the back of my throat as I try to fill them with air after he winded me with his words. My whole world is collapsing, everything slowly crumbling around me and there is nothing I can do to stop it from happening. I am merely a witness in this colossal event that is unfolding in front of me.
“Luke,” I whisper, because saying his name out loud is too painful, “please, you don’t mean this. I have given you everything. Every piece of me is yours.” And it’s true. I built myself up for him, changed who I once was to be his perfect bride. I reach over to try and grab his hand, but he snatches it away, shaking his head from side to side as he pushes away from the table.
“I love you,” I tremble, and I sound pathetic. I blink for a moment, letting my eyes fall and I don’t even recognise myself. I am catapulted back to a time when I stood in the pouring rain, begging a man I loved to love me back.
“I’ve met someone else.” His words pierce through me, and I am back in the room. A hot pole scalds my throat as I try and push away the tears, but I feel the pressure building, the feel of a thousand needles behind my eyes. Standing from the table, he pushes his hands through his hair before he turns and faces me. “Tammy,” he rushes her name out as if it’s burned his tongue.
“Tammy.” I repeat, eyes wide and suddenly the pain that penetrated me and the tears that threatened dissolve into nothing. “As in your co-star, Tammy.”
He nods, unable to bring himself to even mutter the wordyes.
“The one that you assured me I hadnothingto worry about after her notorious streak of being a fucking home wrecker,” my voice gets louder as blind rage consumes me.
“It’s different with us,” he tries to defend his actions and I scoff on a laugh, hot air filling my nostrils.
I stare at the man I love, silently searching for anything that shows me he is still in there, still tucked away and hiding somewhere safe as he shatters my world.
“Don’t do this… please, Luke.” I’m back to begging, the rage simmering once more, and I hate myself for beingthisgirl. “Don’t throw away what we have for some stupidfling.” The words are poison on my tongue as I spit them out, standing from my seat and hovering in front of him, my eyes bouncing back and forth between his.
“It’s. Over. Aspen.” He drawls out in a slow and vicious manner and my heart combusts in my chest.It’s over.
I say nothing and I am ashamed of the tears that I am crying over this man. This man that humiliated me in ways he should have never done. Wasting tears over unrequited love. Or was it evenlove. Everything I knew or thought I knew has been pulled away like a rug under my feet and now I am left on the cold floor wondering what the hell I am going to do.
I am disappointed in everything I have given up for him. I am disappointed inmyself.
He walks over to me, cupping my face in his hand as he lowers his face, his eyes searching for mine.
“Can I ask one thing of you—and I know I have no right—but…” his tone is soft, caring almost, but it’s all an act. He is paid to switch his personalities. It’s basically his job.
I stay silent, completely numb as I replay everything that has unfolded in my mind.
“Can we keep our separation quiet until this movie is wrapped up. I don’t want to bring any unnecessary attention to myself whilst I have this going on.” His blue eyes bounce back and forth between mine as he waits for a response.
Of course not you selfish, self-entitled piece of shit.
No, you selfish pig.
No.
NO!
But, for some fucking reason, I am nodding my head like a good, dutiful fiancée as I agree to this and shame flames across my cheeks.
In my head, I am trying to make sense of what the fuck I am doing and maybe, just maybe it’s because he will realise that this is a fling and he will come back begging on his knees with tears in his eyes.
