The Kiss

~DAHLIA

FOUR YEARS LATER.

Zayden was kissing Edda again.

Just like he did four years ago.

My jaw clenched with anger as I stared at them, and my wolf was trembling with indignation.

I looked around, my gaze catching on the crowd dancing and giggling as they drank, but nobody seemed to be surprised at the sight of my husband's lips on another woman.

Disgust coursing through me, I tore my eyes away from the sight and walked away, hands curled into fists as I stormed all the way back home.

The door opened beneath my hand, and no sound floated into my ears. Everything was still, quiet. And even though I had been married to Zayden for a year, even though it had been three hundred and sixty five days since I last saw my beautiful babies, it was still weird for me to walk into a house and not be instantly surrounded by my kids incessant chatter.

With a resigned sigh, I walked into the house, shutting the door behind me.

Plopping on a couch, I raised my head to stare at the ceiling. Longing sliced through my bones, and there was a stinging ache at the back of my eyes.

I missed my children.

My beautiful, chaotic, little bundles of laughter. Leaving them behind wasn't my plan at all, but when Zayden had appeared a year, desperate to bring me back here to see my ‘sick’ adoptive grandfather, I had to.

But when I got here, I found out that he had lied to me. All those pain filled, desperate words about my adoptive grandfather being at the verge of death and wanting to see me? A blatant, fucking lie.

Instead, Zayden had driven me to a registry to get married to him.

So here I was, stuck with him in a marriage neither of us wanted, my kids far away from me. And he had the guts to act like that in public while I was in here, sad and away from my kids?

I was going to make him pay. He had to know that I was no longer the Dahlia that pined for him like a fool. I was a grown ass woman now, and I would not be treated like nothing but a home holder.

If he wanted to throw a party for his best friend and kiss her like his life depended on him, then fine. He could do it after divorcing me. But immediately after the thought, I instantly discarded it. We couldn't get divorced, at least not while my adoptive grandfather was still alive. The old man was the only reason why I stayed married to that jerk.

Not being able to divorce him wasn't going to stop me from making him pay for what he did though.

With that resolution in mind, I stood up and walked into my room. Since he wasn't back, I might as well use that time to talk to my kids. Excitement slithered in my veins as I dialed Derek's contact.

He picked up on the second ring.

“Hello, love,” Derek said softly, and my heart squeezed at the sound of his voice. I missed him so much.

“Hi, Dee. How're you? How have you been?"I asked, my voice taking on a teary quality.

“I’m okay. Are you, though? You sound tired,” he noted. I shrugged at his words, but deep down I was glad that he still cared about me enough to know that I wasn't okay.

“I’m fine. How are my babies?” I asked, instead of answering his question the way he wanted me to

Derek was silent for a short while before he responded.

“The twins are fine. They are currently asleep, though,” he paused for a while before he said, “They miss you terribly, Dahlia. I miss you too,” he said quietly.

I closed my eyes at the pain in his voice. Derek was my best friend, and I trusted him enough to leave my kids with him. He knew about my situation, and even though he disapproved of me staying in the marriage with zayden, I had no choice.

“I’ll find time to come and see them soon, Dee. I promise.”

“Come home, Dahlia. If he's not treating you well, and I doubt he is, just come back to us. You don't have to stay,” he pleaded.

My lips parted, but before I could speak, in that moment, I heard the front door open.

Zayden was back.

“I have to go. I'll call you again. Say hi to my kids for me, Derek. Tell them that I love them very much,’ I said, and without waiting for a response, I hung up.

A few minutes later, my husband staggered into the room. He was drunk, and as he swayed on his feet at the doorway, the anger that had been receding since I came back from the party surged forward again.

I glared at him as he walked closer, a wide, loopy grin on his face.

“You’re my wife, right?’ he slurred as he stopped before me. This close, I could see that he wasn't as drunk as I thought him to be. Still, he reeked of sweat and Edda’s perfume.

Zayden went on, undeterred by my glare or my silence. “ Hi, wife. Did you wait up for me?” he asked.

I stood up from where I sat at the edge of the bed and gave him a stern once over.

“Go and have a damn shower, Zayden, you reek,” I snapped and walked into my closet to avoid looking at him longer than I had to. When I eventually heard the bathroom door close behind him after several minutes, I walked back into the room, got on my side of the bed, and closed my eyes.

It was almost midnight which meant that he had probably spent hours kissing Edda even after I left the party. And he had the nerve to walk in here and call me his… wife?

A derisive snort slipped past my lips.

What a joke.

After what could have been forever, or perhaps just a few minutes, the bathroom door opened. I heard his footsteps as he padded to the closet, and when he slid on the bed, I pretended to be asleep.

I might have continued to ignore him and eventually fell asleep, if his hands hadn't snaked up my spine. I stiffened at his touch, my body locking up as his hands trailed up and down my body.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I snapped.

His hands stopped moving, and in the darkness, I heard the shock in his voice as he asked, “What’s wrong, Dahlia?”