Chapter 4. Seething In Rage

Gwen POV

I was glaring at Damian’s back while he was walking out of the reception hall for the umpteenth time to do whatever it was that was keeping him busy all throughout the after-wedding celebratory dinner.

At first, I did not mind his absences, but when guests began to give me pointed looks like they were expecting him to behave that way, I wanted to shout my dismay.

I knew that most of the guests and, most importantly, Damon’s family disliked me, thinking I was unsuitable for their golden boy.  They seemed to relish the way my groom was treating me, but I can’t let this go on.

I can’t let people think that it was Damon who was behaving strangely when it was his twin brother all along.

A huge part of me wanted to clear Damon’s name and retain the image of an ideal man that was him, that his twin had very neatly sabotaged today.

Damon was sweet, gentle, and attentive. Not uncaring and inattentive like the man who posed as him.

And most importantly, Damon will never treat his wife shabbily like that man is doing.

I was debating long and hard with myself. Several times, I was tempted to blurt out in front of their family and guests that it was Damian who married me, but I also worried about Damon’s safety. I don’t trust his twin. I think that he had something to do with Damon’s disappearance.

My hands clenched into fists at the thought.

Damian returned to our table, ignoring the dagger looks I gave him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, feigning innocence while lifting the cocktail glass to his lips.

I watched how his Adam's apple moved when he swallowed the amber liquid up to its last drop before finally placing the glass back on the table.

Not long after, he wiped his lips with the back of his hand, making me shake my head in consternation.

Not long after, his phone rang, and he again stood from our table.

“Sorry.” He said, without any hint of remorse in his voice.

“Wait!”

Before I could stop him, he was already tracing his way out of the event hall in quick strides.

While watching him leave, I kind of wondered what was keeping him busy all the time. He kept leaving our table for longer periods than everyone noticed.

This early, he was beginning to set the tone of my marriage with Damon,  and he was not painting a good image of my groom.

“What happened to Damon?” Said my best friend, Lou.

I did not realize that she had already reached our table because my eyes were either focused on Damon’s back or on my lap.

In keeping my mind busy by blotting out everything around me, I hadn’t noticed my friend. I lifted my head and saw her brows arched up in confusion.

I shook my head.

“I don’t know.”

I was tempted to tell her, but I was afraid. I don’t know what Damian would be capable of doing when provoked.

“The guests are talking. They thought that Damon was finally showing his true colors. He is insinuating that from his actions, it was not clear he did not love you.”

I could not take it anymore. Damian should not besmirch Damon’s name by his recklessness.

Abruptly, I stood up and saw everyone’s eyes were on me. I wanted to bow my head down, but anger drove me. I decided to look for Damian to give him a piece of my mind. This behavior shouldn’t go on because his actions fire back on Damon.

The guests are having a grand time seeing my self-consciousness. The coordinator looked at me, seemingly in a bind.  

“We need to cut the cake,” she told me.

We can’t cut the cake because my fake groom is conspicuously not around.

Balancing my gown on one hand and holding my head up as I hear whispers purposely said loud enough to reach my ears, I walked out of the event hall with one mission in mind. That is, to find Damon’s twin. If he can’t take a hint, then he is in for a scolding.

I asked around, endured people’s pitying stares as they kindly pointed me in the direction where he had gone. I found my way out of the hotel and into the garden.

It was primarily dark outside, with fairy lights giving off a muted illumination to the whole place.

My eyes squinted to adjust to the light, quickly realizing it was empty.

Damian was not here. I sighed when I realized that I had been duped. Maybe the hotel staff member who told me was now laughing on my behalf.

I gritted my teeth. Then, my eyes narrowed into slits when I heard faint noises.

I decided to turn back. I don’t want to disturb whoever was having a private moment behind the shadows of the trees. But then, I heard Damon’s name and my eyes saw red.

“Please, please.” I heard a feminine voice pleading in sweet anguish.

Blood rushed up to my head.

I was so incensed that I marched up to the location of the voice, uncaring of the length of my gown. And there I found my groom engaged in a tight embrace with one of my bridesmaids.

They were so into each other that they didn’t notice I was watching them for a full two seconds until I found my voice.

“What are you doing?” Hearing my stiffly enraged voice, the two parted shamelessly.

The woman laughed lightly, uncaring that they had been discovered. Unabashedly, she adjusted her dress that Damian hiked up to her waist.

Then, she wiped her mouth and ran her fingers through her hair.

“Sorry, dear. Your groom is yummy. I can’t resist having a taste.” She said, looking the least bit self-conscious about it.

Then, with a proud tilt of her head, she strutted away from us, but not after receiving a slap on her rump courtesy of my brazen groom.

She was giggling while strutting away, adding to my fury.

Hands on my waist, I glared at Damian, but he did not seem to falter. He adjusted the waistband of his pants and flicked away invisible dust on the front of his coat before he met my accusing gaze.

My hands clenched into fists.

“How dare you?” I hissed at him.

Damian smirked. He knew that I was about to lose my temper, and he was amused by it. He made a step forward, intending to leave me at that dimly lit garden to go back inside the hotel.

“You are disgusting. You are ruining Damon’s reputation.”

My accusation did not seem to bother him.

“Says the trash my brother picked and married.”

That was the last straw. His statement made me burn with rage.

This man had consistently made me feel like a clown in my own show. This man, from the time I met him, had continuously trampled on my dignity, and I had had enough of it.

Without thinking, my hand flew, and it connected to his cheek.

I landed him a hard slap to his face. The sound it created broke into the tense environment surrounding us.  

We looked at each other, both outraged.

His eyes darkened dangerously, and I stepped back, but it was too late, because he yanked my arms and pulled me towards his hard chest.

I clawed at his face when he pushed my body forward until I felt the coldness of the wall on my back.

I was trapped between the wall and his chest.

I struggled while he pinned me in place, and then, his hands lifted my chin, and without warning, he kissed me.

It was a punishing kiss. I whimpered when I tasted the blood on my lips. My chest heaved. I felt so afraid.

Then, the kiss gentled, and I began to respond.

I had not expected that he would abruptly pull back. If it weren’t for the wall on my back, I might have become a puddle on the ground.

I felt so weak, but what he said made me stand on my ground.

“See? You are not so different. I wondered what my brother saw in you.” And then walked out on me, making me seethe in rage.