Bound By Lies, Broken By Truth

I never dreamed I would find love. Least of all with the man I had sworn to hate.

Even now, as I walked through the prison gates with anticipation running through my body, I still couldn’t shake that feeling off. That thrill of seeing him again.

Because I still loved him.

Because I knew I wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon.

By the time he is released from jail, I would be somewhere, far away from him.

No, I’m not running away.

I knew better than to keep myself in the delusion that I could ever truly escape him.

“This way,” the guard guided me. There were three guards escorting us, two at the back and one leading in the front.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked.

Glancing at her, I nodded, “I have to,”

As we walked through the dim hall, the prison seemed to have quiet down. Or perhaps, it was my heartbeat cancelling everything out.

The guard swiped a card against the metal door and it opened with a buzz, the green light flickering on. I was almost there. I could feel it.

That invisible thread pulled me closer, tightening with each step.

We turned towards a more contained narrow corridor, a plain steel door right at the end of it.

“Can I go alone?” I requested her.

“You sure?” she asked and I nodded without hesitation.

She signaled the guard who knocked once at the door.

“Ten minutes,” he told me.

The door opened and a guard from inside came out. Swallowing, I stepped in, my eyes trailing the bare plain walls. There was a metal table bolted in the center with two chairs on one side and one on the other.

And there was him.

He sat in the lone chair, his arms spread out in the front, cuffed with the table. The chains were short which was meant to limit his movement. He wore a plain dark blue prison uniform, sleeves rolled up revealing his veiny forearms, and his collar just loose enough to make it seem as if it was intentionally done.

As if he still had some power over his situation.

Typical.

Even in here, like this, he made it seem as if he had some control. Though, he looked dashingly sexy, the cheap rough fabric didn’t suit him. It was supposed to rip that power aura from around him.

It didn’t.

If anything, it amplified it. Made him more dangerous. More real.

His head was lowered slightly, but at the sound of the door closing behind me, his chin lifted.

Our eyes locked and his eyes gleamed darkly.

“Wife,” he said, his voice rough, and the word laced with venom.

“Damon,” I replied, sitting across him.  

His cold gaze did not waver. And for the first time, I saw it.

Hatred.

His eyes burned with it, mercilessly. That was not the worst part.

The disappointment beneath it all…that settled on my heart like a heavy rock.

What else did I expect?

Of course, he would resent me. Be furious with me.

Hate me. 

Why wouldn't he?

After all.

I was the one who put him here.