Chapter 5

ALMA'S POV

It took some time, but I gathered myself and went into the house. Meeting him in the living room surprisingly. His form at the foot of the stairs, like he was waiting for me.

"Here.shape. Pink. A pink gemstone.

It was gorgeous. The kind you'd stare at all day, get filled with imaginations, wonder what stuff you could craft out of it and not get tired.

I could be doing that. Feeling special while at it cause he got it for me, but I couldn't.

My spirit was drained. I was drained, just wanted a cool shower and forget all that had happened.

"The shade goes well with your eyes." His voice came quiet. Not leaving. Not moving away.

I looked up. Having mixed feelings when I saw those gray eyes, the layered look in them. The one I'd usually see and then delude myself into thinking it was care. That he was caring for me.

"Maybe you should...make a necklace out of it. It'll suit you." My shoulders dropped slowly, relaxing into that moment. That single moment where everything felt good somehow; There was me, him and gemstones. The things I needed for life to make sense.

But it was short-lived,

"I'm stepping out." He moved backwards, moved away. Eyes measured again, "Don't wait up."

Again?

Again like yesterday?

But he was gone. The front doors sounding quietly, silence in the living room, the air. The big house enveloping me, wanting to swallow me, my mind already conjuring images, scenes. Where he was going, who he was meeting, the things they were saying...

"I refuse to go crazy." I muttered to myself, eyes shut. Fist clenched. "I will not go crazy."

With that, I turned around and went up immediately. Forcing my legs faster so I'd get into that shower and forget everything.

Forget everything that happened. But strangely, in between my legs ached.

Did I fall down somewhere last night?

*****

Hours into that shower, I realised I couldn't stay there forever. So I came out and grabbed the next best thing;

Work.

Gemstones.

I already had a new one at home so I grabbed it. Officially putting my mind into it, tearing and sculpting. Doing what I did best, all my worries vacating my mind and body in that moment.

And I enjoyed every bit, while it lasted that is.

After doing that till dinner time, I had to get food. Head downstairs for a meal.

Damien was still not home, but no worries. It wasn't the first time I ate dinner alone.

I grabbed my phone to keep company, scrolling as I ate in silence. Until those notifications came in.

"Isabella Laurent started following you." I frowned, reading the words. But before I could process anything, a buzz followed;

"Isabella Laurent wants to have a video call."

"A video call??" I repeated, sat up now. Partly surprised, confused and then speechless.

The phone in my hands vibrating. It rang a first, and then second.

"She's calling, why?"

Why will she want to call me? What reason could she possibly have??

I stared at it. Really stared at it, a beat and I clicked it.

Took the call.

It was my phone anyways, if I didn't like anything she said, I could cut it off.

But little did I know...

"Oh Dame..."

"Hold me like that yeah," voices flowed the moment I took the call. Sheets sounding, skin slapping.

"Touch me- fuck yes! Yess!"

"You like that? You like that, huh?" Slaps grew worse. Loud.

"Yesss! Oh fuck, yes!" I choked. Gripped my phone hard, the video unfocused. Shaky. Like something a person had mistakenly dialed or something, but I stayed. The voices made me stay. That voice.

It was unmistakable.

"Fuckk...oh fuck Ella!"

"You feel so good...so good."

I trembled. Shook. The outline of the video now visible; a bedroom, dim lights, ruffled sheets, two figures. Moving. And very aggressively.

I couldn't make out faces clearly due to the lights but it was most definitely her. It was her.

"Dame..."

"Oh Dame..." Her head rose up, blonde hair visible. Her shoulder blades obvious, then her nails appeared on the screen. Eyes looking straight at it, at me.

"Say you've missed me," she spoke, "Say you've missed me, tell me how much you've missed me."

"I've missed you." He groaned, deep. Rough. "I've missed you so much, Ella. I've missed you." He leaned forward, gripped her chin. His side profile obvious now, shape of his jaw. The phone slipping from her hands same time a smirk dancing on her face, moaning sounds soon tearing through the air again.

More struggles, skin slapping, pleasured groans engulfing my ears. The video shaking with the bed, an ass cheek on display.

His.

The room spun around me. The sheer passion, desire, longing through the call hitting me square in the chest. Suffocating me.

It was him.

It was him and her. Him and her having sex...And she called me. Called me to show me.

My phone fell then. Fell right through my hands, landed on the table with a thud, but it all just continued. They continued.

Him!

"Oh God Ella...oh God!"

"That's it, Dame...that's it! Give it all to me, give it...gi- Oh- fuckkk, Damien!!!"

"No!" I screamed and crashed the phone. Threw it right across the room, the bits to the floors like my heart. My hopeless, helpless heart.

"Oh God...oh God!!" I cried out, reducing to a mess on the floor. My mind in disbelief but everything crashing right down. Every single thought, moment, every delusion, hope...all of it coming to an end right then!

"You are so cruel...so, so cruel!!"

You're a rotten bastard, Damien! A rotten bastard from hell!!

"I must've been out of my mind to fall in love with you. I must've been crazy to marry you!"

What kind of life was this? What exactly was i doing here, calling it living. This wasn't living. This wasn't marriage.

Even a cat on the road with a partner was better off than I was!

At least they received affection. They received devotion, no matter what their partners come back home to them. Unlike me. Unlike my freaking bastard of a husband!

"I can't do this anymore...I can't."

I won't!

I stood up right then, going up the stairs. Tears streaming down my eyes, vision blurry, knees scraping on the stairs as I fell but I didn't stop. Just picked myself back up and continued. Continued all the way to that bedroom, to my luggage.

Tearing open the closet. Grabbing everything that was mine, everything I could fit into that single luggage cause I didn't want anything else holding me down. Didn't want his help leaving.

I was leaving.

I won't stay here anymore and take any of this!

He didn't want me.

Doesn't want me no matter what I do or looked like. It had nothing to do with me, I gave him everything. Every part of me, my heart, and I would've given him some more if he just asked!

But no.

He didn't want it. Didn't want me.

He wanted her. All these years, it was still her. It was my delusion to think I married a man who married me. That love would grow... that we were doing great already with each other, whereas that wedding night he gave me a marriage contract to sign should've told me everything!

"That should've told me."

One year of dating, three years of marriage, and I couldn't get a proper kiss. Couldn't consummate our union.

But his ex shows up just a night ago, he's insulted my entirety, and now ran off to go have sex with her!

"He left me here to go fuck her. I've been so blind." I muttered to myself, still in disbelief. Tying my coat. Grabbing my stuff. "How can I have been so blind all these years? The signs were everywhere! Everywhere!How can i have been so blind??"

I arranged up every final bits. Pulled out those documents too, signed and then waited for him. Waited for him to be back.

He didn't show the entire night.

Only came back the early hours of the next morning, looking exhausted all over. Surely he'd been giving it to her all night. After so long... 4 years he's been celibate.

"What are you doing?" He eyes fell unto me. Gauging my coats and luggage. "Where are you going?"

I didn't respond. Just stood up, headed to the sofa in the room and dropped the documents with a pen for him.

His marriage contract.

"I know what you did." I started out, throat raw from crying. "I know you were with Ella last night."

He paused, "Yes? How do you know that?"

"I know everything now." I said, "I saw it."

Saw the mole on your ass too. The one every Ashford male is rumoured to have. Now I know it's real.

Three years of marrying you and I didn't see your ass.

"What are you talking about?" he frowned, unbuttoning his shirt, dropping his coat. "You look pale."

Right.

"I know all about you and Ella. How you've been spending time together, you don't have to butter up to me with lies or anything. You don't have to hide in the bathroom masturbating with her pictures anymore."

He blinked shocked for a moment. Speechless. Then his features twisted irritably, "What are you accusing me of? So what if I do that in the bathroom, you already knew why we got married. Stop being childish.”

"Yes." I agreed, "I'll stop being childish. I should face reality.”

He paused again, "Look, you knew I had feelings for her. You knew that when you agreed to marry me. We had a deal."

"A contract."

"Yes, and it's simple. Do your part, I do my part. We play our roles and no one has to know anything. Not grandma, your mom or my board of directors. They don’t need to know anything.”

"No." I shook my head, disagreeing. "No. I can’t continue doing this. I can’t keep pretending to be your wife.”

"Pretend? You are My Wife." He declared, firm. "We're married. It’s normal for you to feel hurt, but that doesn't change anything."

"It does."

"It doesn't."

"It does."

"It doesn't! How does you feeling hurt change anything, Alma??"

"Because I love you!" I spat, tired. Exasperated. "I love you. So I can't continue doing this."

I moved. He stood. Scowled, watching me. "You can't say that. You're not thinking clearly, we are impossible. You know it.”

"I know." I bit back, grabbing my stuff. Swallowing. "You’ll never love me. It's always going to be her. I know. So let's end this. The papers are already on the sofa, I've signed. You sign too."

"We'll discuss this tomorrow."

No, we won't.

I walked out. Walked out on him, out the door, down the stairs and main exit of a building I once thought would be my home forever.

He didn't come after me. Didn't call out to me, I didn't look back either.

That's how it should be.

"Goodbye, Damien."