Chapter Four: Losing Everything

Miracle's POV

Now that my head cleared a little, and I no longer feel the need to jump, I noticed a few things, and shame is starting to sink in.

What the hell did I just ask?

"You know what? Forget that part. I don't know what I was thinking, but I swear I just slipped. It must be the wine," I licked my lips and put my hands on my hips with a heavy sigh. "I was just a little... lost earlier and I didn't mean it." I continued, trying to sound convincing and looked up at him again.

My first impression of the man is he was way too outspoken and honest for my liking. I admit, he was gorgeous, like the type of man that you will see in movies and girls will swoon over with gorgeous brown locks, brown eyes and full lips. He towers over me and I am not even that short at 5'6. He has a lean body but he effortlessly pulled me up earlier.

"People often blame alcohol for expressing what's really on their minds and hearts." He responded, clearly not believing me. "What you were about to do is plain stupid."

"I already said—you know what? I don't have to explain myself to you. How old are you anyway? You look fresh out of college."

Why is he so affected anyway? It's not like he was the one who almost fell on the vast ocean where my corpse won't probably even be found!

I walked away from him to pick up my heels and he followed me.

"Admit it and you do, actually, because I could have been a witness to your death and I am here to unwind. You almost ruined my trip."

"But you didn't!" I argued and almost collided with his chest when I turned around.

"Yeah, thanks to me because I saved you, which I haven't received a thank you for, by the way. Do you have a habit of not thanking people?"

"And do you have a habit of jumping after someone who wants to jump?" He pursed his lips and I sighed, lowering my heels and swallowing. "Okay, I'm sorry and thank you for saving me. I mean it."

He nodded and he looked satisfied. Look at me arguing with a young man as if I am not older than him and more mature.

"Do you feel better?"

It hit me. He purposely riled me up to release some of my emotions through venting out and lashing out on him.

I chuckled and shook my head. "A little. Thank you." I told him, sounding more sincere now.

I proceeded to leave him because I didn't want to open my heart out to a stranger, even though I will probably never see him again. And honestly, because something in me wants to get away from him.

I turned to him while walking backwards. "I hope I didn't ruin your trip."

He pocketed his hands and shrugged. "You made it interesting, Rose."

I laughed again, and God it felt good. This man, a lot younger than me, has made me laugh twice in a night than I have ever laughed in these years.

I turned back around and waved my hand, before disappearing into a corner, however, he called me.

"I know how to love a woman and if you ever need it, just look for me. I'll be here for three days."

My heart unknowingly skipped a beat at his words, and it didn't help that his intense stare made me feel like he meant it in a lot of ways.

I kept walking and went back to my room with a troubled mind, filled with what almost happened and the stranger I met.

In the end, I didn't seek him until my trip was done and I haven't seen him again as well. My mind was telling me to, convincing me that it's only right to give myself a chance to feel like a woman again, but I knew it wouldn't feel right because I'm still a married woman. Mark cheated on me, but I won't prove anything by doing the same. It might be pleasurable at first, but I know I will feel dirty afterwards.

I went back from my trip with a heavy heart, already expecting the worst, and I was right because Mark welcomed me with divorce papers, not even caring where I was or what I did. I picked myself up only to break the pieces again by coming home. Home? Is this even really my home?

"This is your fault, you know? We could have a good life together if only you could give me a child, but you can't even do the basic duty as my wife." Mark started the blaming game again while we were all in the living room. Dad, Delilah, Mark, Blair and I.

I was still standing by the door with my luggage in hand, and the divorce papers on my other hand. Is it too obvious that he eagerly wants to get rid of me?

"How long has this been going on?" I asked calmly while reading the divorce papers word by word.

The papers were light, but it weighed a ton that moment. This is it. It cuts like a knife, but I know it’s better this way. This is what I’ve been waiting for.

"Three years." He replied and I paused.