Chapter 7

Lila

I stood in front of the mirror, my hands moving over my dress as I smoothed imaginary lines. The red dress clung to me like a second skin, showing off every curve. My hair fell in waves over my shoulders, and my makeup was donned perfectly.

Two weeks had passed since Isabelle signed those papers, and Jason would not touch me. Why?

I thought back to two days ago. I'd spent the whole afternoon in the kitchen.

"Jason, dinner's ready!" I'd called from downstairs, with so much enthusiasm.

He came down slowly, took one look at the table – the candles which I lit since I wanted a romantic dinner; the fresh bread whose aroma permeated the whole atmosphere, every dish laid out well–and his face went blank.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Dinner, silly." I flashed a million-dollar smile. "Made just for you," "For us" I added. I was wearing that silk gown he used to compliment. "Come on, come on, sit."

He stood there for a while, his cold gaze piercing me, then shook his head. "I'm not hungry, Lila."

"You have to eat something. You've barely—"

"I said I'm not hungry." His tone was final, like a door slammed shut. He turned and walked toward the stairs.

"Jason, wait. We could eat together. Talk about—"

But he was gone. The study door upstairs clicked shut.

My face reddened as shame washed over me. I blinked, trying to keep the tears pooling in my eyes at bay. No, I wasn't done yet. I couldn't give up now.

Last week, I'd watched him go to bed. Then, I stripped to the last cloth and crawled under the sheets next to him, pressing myself against his skin.

"Hey babe" I whispered as my fingers trailed his chest. "You awake?"

He didn't respond. I moved closer, my hand sliding lower.

For a moment, there was no response. Suddenly, he sat up, pushing my hands away.

"What do you think you are doing?" he asked. The irritation in his voice was unmistakable.

"Come here baby." I reached for him, my hands grasped cold air as he jumped off the bed.

"I'm going to sleep in the guest room," he said, grabbing a pillow.

"Jason, it's cold in there. Just stay. Please."

He paused at the door. "I need space, Lila."

"Space? What? We just…we just got together babe. Let us–"

"Goodnight."

The words in my throat got stuck as the door closed.

I laid there in the dark, heart hammering in my chest as I wonder what the hell was wrong with him. We won, didn't we? We had each other now. We had everything we needed.

Why then was he giving me the cold shoulder. That bitch! Isabelle. Working against me even when I threw her out. I wasn't done with her yet.

Back to the present, after staring over my reflection in the mirror one last time, I grabbed the food pack I'd prepared this morning–chicken casserole, his favorite.

Today would be different. I was sure of it.

The drive to Blackwood Empire took fifteen minutes. I hummed a reggae tune under my breath while tapping at the steering with excitement. When I got to his office on the ninth floor, his secretary looked up, startled.

"Ms. Lila, I don't think he's—"

I walked past her and pushed his office door open.

Jason sat at his desk, a glass in his hand. Eyes red, hair messy, heavy bags under his eyes. What the heck?

His head shot up when he saw me.

"Lila. What are you doing here?"

I didn't answer. I set the lunch box on his desk and moved toward him, my hips swaying with each step, heart racing in my chest.

I reached for the glass in his hand and snatched it away, setting it down.

"You're drinking too much," I said, voice soft.

He just watched me, cold eyes boring into me.

I moved around his desk and placed my hands on his shoulders. For a second, his tense body relaxed. A rush of victory rippled through me.

Then his hands came up and pushed me away.

"Stop." he said.

"Jason, wait–" I tried again, reaching to hold him.

"I said stop, Lila."

His voice was sharp, jaw clenched tight, his eyes darkening with every second that passed. He stood up, putting the desk between us like a wall.

I stepped back subconsciously.

"You need to leave," he said.

"Jason, I brought you lunch. We could—"

"Leave. Now."

I stared at him, my mouth opening and closing. The confidence I'd felt when I walked in had vanished.

"Lila," he said, stopping me as I turned toward the door.

I turned back, hope flickering in my eyes. Maybe…maybe he had changed his mind.

"Don't come back here," He growled.

I left at once, my head held down in shame.

At night, he returned home late. Past midnight. I pretended to be fast asleep when he walked in. He went straight to the kitchen, poured himself another drink, then came upstairs.

He got into bed beside me.

My heart leaped. Finally! This was my chance.

I rolled over and placed my hand on his chest. I moved closer, my lips finding his shoulder.

"Jason," I whispered.

He didn't respond. But he didn't push me away either.

I took that as permission and straddled him, my body sliding against his.

"Let me make you feel good," I breathed against his neck.

I reached down to remove his pants, my fingers fumbling with the button. I was so close. So close to finally having him again.

I positioned myself over him, ready, waiting.

Then, I heard a deep snore.

I sat there, frozen, staring down at his face. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell evenly.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

I climbed off him and sat on the edge of the bed, my entire body shaking with rage. I wanted to scream. I wanted to hit something.

Two weeks. Two whole weeks of trying, of dressing up, cooking, touching him, following him around, begging him with my body.

And he fell asleep. Really?