Chapter Six

Violet

My body was still tingling from the bliss of my own release. His hands on my breasts tightened as he chased his own completion. I felt the rough stubble of his chin against my neck as he grunted, driving me deeper into the bed with his thrusts.

He length started swelling inside me and with a deep groan, he gave a final thrust and shot his cum inside me. Only the heavy sounds of our breathing filled the dark room as he slumped against me.

I wanted to turn and lean into his hold, to know what it felt like to be held by my powerful husband. I wanted him to need me. I wanted to be his strength and the woman he turned to everytime.

Instead, he started to pull out of me. I placed my hand on his thigh, stopping him and almost pleadingly said. "Lie with me tonight, Dominic. I want to be held by you."

He brushed my hand away from his thigh and rose. I felt the warmth left me. He didn't say a word as he pulled his pants back up.

I stayed on the bed, naked and burning with hurt. "Dominic."

"You can't ask for more than this, Violet."

"I'm your wife!"

"In name only," he said, his sharp voice cutting through the stillness of the night. "We'll have dinner at my parents' tonight. Be ready by Seven."

After he left, I turned my face into the pillow and wept, his rejection setting my chest on fire with hurt. I hated that he still owned my heart, that I still wanted him and still hoped for his comfort.

I stayed there for a long time until I slept off. When I opened my eyes, it was morning. The brightness of the day was a stark contrast to my gloomy mood. I had a breakfast of toast and coffee and started on my book on the cushioned terrace bench.

Sometime around noon, the terrace door creaked open. I looked up, startled to see Gaius. He stepped through, tall and good looking in comfortable shorts and a shirt. He carried a small wooden basket brimming with dark berries, fresh, and still glistening with dew.

Holding them out, he said. "I thought you might like these. From the old row near the southern grove. They’re early this season."

I blinked at the basket, then up at him. "Thank you. That’s very kind."

He sat on the opposite side of the bench without waiting for an invitation, the way someone who had grown familiar would. I wasn't sure if a wild make out evening made us familiar.

"Gaius.." I began, unsure of what I was trying to say.

He held up a hand, his smile easy, unbothered. "Relax, Violet. I’m not going to bring it up. It was just a moment. You don't need to fold yourself in half every time I walk into the room."

Her cheeks flushed hot. "I'm not folding. I’m just…"

"Awkward," he finished, reaching out to pluck a berry from the basket and popping it into his mouth. I followed the movement to his mouth. "It’s fine. You're allowed to be. But I’d rather you didn’t make it weird. We’re still friends, aren’t we?"

I nodded, my tension beginning to unwind. "Yes Gaius."

We sat talking about my book in silence for a long while, a familiar rhythm returning between us, comfortable and light.

"Dom said we’re going to your parents’ for dinner this evening." I said after exhausting the topic of my book.

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "You'll love it. Mom's so homey. Compliment her rose garden and you'll have her wrapped around your finger."

I chuckled. "I'll make a note of it. You're not coming?" I was hoping he'll be there to take the edge off. I was not familiar with Dom's parents yet.

"Oh, no. Mom's going to be grilling me about getting married."

I laughed. "And why haven't you?"

He hesitated and I thought I saw his gaze longer on me for a tad longer. "Just haven't found the perfect person yet."

My gaze dropped to the berries in the basket. I didn't press. I just felt my heart race in my chest.

__________

Dominic

The grandfather clock in the hallway ticked slowly and deliberately, its sound steady but soft in the dusky hush of the house. I sat on the edge of the leather armchair near the fireplace, a glass of untouched whiskey resting on the side table as I wanted for Violet to get ready.

It annoyed me that Violet was making me wait, then I remembered Arla used to do the same thing and something shifted in me. The familiar ache rose in my chest, uninvited, but welcome. Arla had never been on time. She’d always made me wait while she tried on three different necklaces or searched for that one shade of lipstick she swore she’d left on the bathroom counter.

And every single time, I'd complained. But then she’d appear all dressed and beautiful and the waiting never seemed to matter anymore.

I glanced toward the staircase. For a moment, I saw her, laughing, glowing. Then gone.

Instead, it was Violet, hurrying down those same stairs in a whirl of perfume tugging at something at the back of her dress.

I let out a quiet breath and realized I was grinding my jaw hard. Every time she was near, I felt the bitter taste of betrayal crawl up my throat. Because she wasn’t Arla. And she would never be.

But my body hadn’t gotten the message. Every time Violet stepped into the room, something primal and unwanted flared up in me. I hated her for it. I hated myself more for reacting.

I stood and took a slow sip of the whiskey, welcoming the punishing burn down my throat.

Violet came to stand in front of me. She took the glass of whiskey from me gingerly and pressed her lips to the same spot mine had been, taking a slow seductive sip. The spot came away stained by her cherry lipstick.

Then she turned, presenting me with her unzipped dress that exposed her bare, smooth spine. "Could you please zip me up?" It was a dare.

I did the zipper in one smooth pull. Then I leaned in, my breath barely grazing her ear. "You can wear every dress like a bait, but I'll never be yours."

She whipped around to face me, tears pooling in her eyes. I ignored and walked out, leaving her to follow me or not.