3 -EMBARASSING

MORGANA FOSTER

A thin ache throbbed in my chest. Hearing the word 'divorce' coming from his mouth hurt much more than reading it in the document. I felt my eyes welling up, looking down, blinking a few times to dispel the tears before they fell right there.

Why had I fallen in love with him when he treated me with no tenderness? There was no love or affection, just a play of smiles during visits and important gatherings. I wouldn't appear sad about it; I had promised myself that he wouldn't see me crying because of him. Not after all the nights he spent away with "sweet Elena." After an eye roll, I cleared my throat and responded:

“I know it will be all right.” I sighed and glanced to the side; I needed to be strong. “Tomorrow, I will sign it. Excuse me, I have to pack my things.” Then I stood up from the couch with a bitter and disdainful smile, marching toward the kitchen.

Ryan raised an intrigued eyebrow, and I could feel his gaze following me all the way. I knew he didn't expect this reaction from me since, according to him, this marriage had been arranged by his grandfather and me. In his eyes, I would always be that opportunistic and selfish woman from the past.

But he had no idea that she, the woman in front of him, looked nothing like that.

In the spacious modern kitchen, I opened the fridge, searching for something to eat. My stomach was growling, and cooking would also distract me. I grabbed some strawberries and sat on the stool in front of the counter that complemented the island. Constantly battling my mind not to cry until Ryan wasn't at home.

Why hadn't I fallen in love with someone else during these three years of college? I had a boyfriend before all this, but I wouldn't dare to propose anything to him after the way we ended. That man only married me out of pity. What else would he want with me?

Okay! I wasn't ugly; I had round features, big brown eyes, long black hair that formed curls at the ends, and although I didn't exercise, my body was not poorly distributed. Even considering myself a pretty girl, I wouldn't dare to compare my beauty to Elena's.

The woman was beauty personified. She had blonde hair and fair, well-maintained skin, blue eyes. Slim and tall.

Whenever she met me, she was impeccably dressed and kind. At least in front of Ryan. When we were alone, Elena would always drop hints and even beg me to divorce him. I always ignored her, not because I was comfortable with the situation, but because my hands were tied. So I avoided her like the plague.

Then, with a jolt, I was snapped out of my reverie when Ryan entered the kitchen shirtless. My jaw dropped, and the strawberry in my hand did too. The man was truly a demi-god; anyone would easily be attracted to him.

The black pants marked the toned and tapered waist with eight sections of muscles, his serious face perfectly matched the toned and slender body, the black hair still wet from the shower, and a shirt thrown over his shoulder made the view even more sensual.

He stopped in front of the fridge and grabbed a water bottle, realizing he was being watched: “Any problem?” He arched an eyebrow and took a sip from the bottle. That simple gesture warmed my body.

"Oh my God! This man is not from this world," I thought, feeling a warmth rise up my neck.

“Any problem, Miss Foster?” he asked again, approaching. My heart started to race in my chest as he approached. Shaking my head, I replied to no. Unable to say anything that wouldn't embarrass me with all the indecent thoughts running through my mind.

As he approaches the counter, my body shudders involuntarily and little electric currents run through me. He leans against the counter and reaches out to take an apple from the basket, without taking his eyes off mine. The sight of his bare chest passing me by and giving off a musky scent. An urge to reach out and touch his chest overwhelmed me.

Those damn deep blue eyes distracted me, my face instantly flushed, I closed my eyes and inhaled that devilish perfume he wore again. I pressed my lips together and with what little strength I had, I pulled away. "I have to go!" I said as I took off, practically running up the stairs in an attempt to get away from the situation.

I could hear him laugh and the rustle of him putting on his T-shirt. I was tempted to look back. Just a glance. - I thought, but shook my head and kept walking until I reached the stairs and went up to the bedroom.

At the first door I found a room decorated in gray tones. There was nothing under the bed but a few pillows, two bedside tables, lamps and a white curtain covering the window. There was also a rug at the foot of the bed and two doors. I looked around the room carefully.

There's a huge bathroom on the first door and a closet on the other. Ryan's things are there, organized and smelling magnificent. I soon realized that this wasn't going to be my room, but looking in the corner, I spotted the suitcases I'd brought earlier in the day in a corner.

I look again to make sure I'm not seeing things. They were my suitcases.

Still confused, I dragged them out to find another room. Which wasn't difficult. The mansion probably had five or six bedrooms. Grandpa Burke always imagined that we would have several children to fill the house, but that never happened. He wouldn't even look at me. I walked down the corridor for a few minutes until I found the second door; luckily this room was empty.

I rested a little on the doorstep before entering. It wasn't as small as the previous room, it also had an en-suite and a dressing room, and the view from the small balcony overlooked the main garden, which would make the view very beautiful in the morning.

I organized the few things I'd brought and the dresses I'd gotten for the Burke family reunions in the closet. I put my bags away and went straight to the bathroom. I filled the bathtub and sank into it, wanting to cool down and relax a little from the tension that filled my body.

"He didn't even touch you, Morgana! Get a grip!" I said to myself in a low voice.

Immersed in my own touch, I stroked my fingers down my body. In order to dissipate the heat it radiated. Gradually, moans flooded the room and I let my body follow its rhythm It wasn't routine, but I needed it. A few minutes passed before I heard the bedroom door open and Ryan's hoarse voice calling my name.

Damn! “Just a minute!” I said. I'm in the bathroom.

I took a deep breath, trying not to show nervousness about being caught like a teenager.

The bathroom door was pushed open without courtesy, and he, now in a suit, stared at me in the bathtub. The sight of the man was breathtaking. I prayed for the foam to cover as much of my body as possible; I had never been naked in front of him. The only time we kissed was on our wedding day, and it was just a peck.

I wasn't angry, but I was nervous about his presence.

“What do you want?” I said without looking at him. “Is that how you talk to your husband, Mrs. Foster?” his tone conveyed sarcasm. I looked at him annoyed and then looked back at the bubbles, feeling less embarrassed.

Did he hear my moans? Was he listening the whole time? — I thought. After a few moments of silence, he continued.

“Grandpa Burke wants to see you!” he said, looking at the mirror and adjusting his tie. “He heard you arrived. I'll take you to the mansion for now, and later, James will bring you back after dinner. Get dressed appropriately as quickly as possible, okay?”

“James is the one bringing me?” I asked. “Yes, I have a commitment later.” he replied dryly.

“Is that all?”, He smiled and looked at me arrogantly. Now, for sure, I looked like a trapped animal to him. And somehow, that amused him. I never paid attention to how he made me nervous with his suffocating presence.

Most women did, he knew, but he never noticed that I was also one of those women. “Unless you need help with the bath, that's it.” He dais and a damn half-smile appeared on his square, chiseled face.

My eyes froze with the proposal hidden in his words, and I swallowed hard. I was delirious. For sure.

What the hell did this man have that was teasing me so much? What did he want? We barely exchanged words during family visits and parties we attended together, and out of nowhere, he had the purpose of teasing me.

“Get out, please? I won't be long, I swear.” I said in an almost tearful tone, still looking at the water. I cursed myself for this. Seconds later, I heard the bathroom door being closed, and I relaxed my back in the bathtub.

I didn't take long so as not to risk the man finding me naked again. We're finishing this. We don't need embarrassing moments. I left the bathroom dressed in a robe.

I chose a tight red dress that I had received as a birthday present from Grandma Burke. Strangely, it made me look curvy and seductive.

The neckline was small and heart-shaped, but the average-sized breasts filled it. The dress was a bit above the knee, so I put on sheer stockings in the same shade as my skin to mitigate the night's cold, low heels, and lingerie as beautiful as the dress, also in shades of red.

I arranged my hair on the side, put on some jewelry I received during annual parties and celebrations. I did simple makeup with brown-smoked eyes, pink lipstick, and applied perfume. In a few minutes, I was ready. I checked again in the mirror and then went downstairs.

The sound of high heels echoed through the house when I reached the stairs, attracting Ryan's attention to me. “Ready?”,I said in a soft and calm tone.

He looked at me for a few seconds,“Change your clothes!” he said and went back to looking at his phone as if nothing had happened.

“What's wrong with my clothes?” I went to the mirror, looking again to make sure nothing was wrong, “It was a gift from Grandma; she has never seen me wearing it. Since we're going to separate soon, she won't see me in it again.”

There was sadness in my voice, but I pressed my lips and kept a blank face. “Okay...” he replied in a whisper, getting up, “It's late! Go in that outfit, but behave yourself.”

I nodded, and we went out to the car. The truth was that the outfit accentuated my beauty. And even though Ryan wasn't in a real marriage, he didn't like anyone coveting what was his. Especially his wife. This possessive air always hung over us.