I COULD NO LONGER BEAR IT

LOLA

My fingers felt numb around the glass. I had been holding it for the past thirty minutes, not bothering to taste its content.

"Stand close to the bar. Don't follow me around."

I was standing close to the bar, just overlooking the show in front of me.

The room was all golden lights, and string quartets and women in dresses that whispered as they moved.

I looked down at my own dress. It didn't matter what I thought. Eddy already disapproved of it.

I inhaled quietly, but exhaled too hard, the waistline of the dress tightened hard against my stomach. 

Closing my eyes, I held my breath, the slow tune from the string quartets providing a harsh background.

It was at that moment I felt someone tug at my elbow. It was a deliberate and confident pull, I was ready to empty my glass on the unfortunate human. 

It was Eddy.

I felt my brief anger dissolve into total surrender. 

"Gentleman, my wife," he said after he had pulled me to the group of men in clean suits, flute-like glasses in hand, eyes scrutinizing, their expression empty.

I wasn't interested, but my face formed a practiced smile.

Then, they nodded and murmured something only Eddy responded to.

I paid attention to the instrumentalists by a corner of the stage instead.

Not until a low laughter erupted from their midst, Eddy's fingers which were firm around my arm tightened, forcing me to wince.

"She is on a strict diet though, sometimes she forgets she has to watch it. Very clumsy, I know," he said, a careless chuckle escaping his throat.

I watched them look me up and down before turning away.

I knew what Eddy was referring to. He will always do this. I didn't expect this night to be different.

That was the first blow for the night.

The second...

At the dinner table, I had just started a conversation with Julie, the woman sitting by my right who at first looked like she didn't like being around people.

It turned out she was just waiting for the right person, and we clicked so well.

We spoke about our similar values, fashion brands, countries that are fun to visit, and she even recommended a hotel on the highland to check out.

My mind was distracted from the cruel world of living as Eddy's wife until he stretched across me to whisper something to the man on Julie's right.

As he returned, he made a brief stop in front of me.

"This is your second bread roll," he said quietly, but not too quietly that Julie did not hear.

Eddy's eyes remained on my hands which layed lifeless beside the plate until I moved, shamelessly picking up the bread from my plate and returning it to the serving basin.

I caught Julie's expression. The polite smile she bore as we talked didn't falter but something in her gaze changed.

I thought I could survive Eddy's ruthlessness for this occasion, but I was barely keeping it together.

The third...

I wasn't sure where I had forgotten the first glass of wine I had - the barman's or the dinner table, but I grabbed another from a passing waiter's tray, just so my fingers were occupied.

The waiter moved out of my view to reveal him, Dr. Connor Millow.

He was standing at a distance, neat tuxedo, glass in hand, looking out the tall glass windows that overlooked the well lit garden.

Beside him, there was a woman and they seemed to be laughing about something.

An unfamiliar feeling washed me down as my gaze lingered on him.

I remembered the dream, every single detail. How could I have forgotten? How every touch of his made me more beautiful, more important, more valuable.

I shivered, grabbing my glass tighter. Finally, drinking.

"Here," I heard Eddy's voice behind me, and I turned immediately like he controlled me.

As soon as he reached me, he grabbed my elbow, his attention not focused on me but on the destination he was fetching me for, like I was a shameless parade.

At the center of the hall, we met Eleanor Hargrove. Rich, Seventy, the kind of woman that had a comment for even a wrong posture.

Her hawk eyes behind the thick lenses that hung by her nose looked me up and down before I even stood before her.

"My wife, Lola," Eddy said, and I made sure to smile.

She hesitated to reply, dissatisfaction lining her expression.

"Nice to meet you darling. I hope you're enjoying being a wife to one of the biggest figures of Los Angeles?" she finally said, but before I could answer,

"She doesn't have a lot of options, especially because she is a work in progress. A project under construction. My project. I always try my best," Eddy replied with a hearty smile, his fingers tightening around my arm.

Eleanor Hargrove laughed a hearty laugh in response.

I gulped down a lump that had grown in my throat. My eyes burnt with sorrow, but I still held the smile, the smile I have learnt to always wear whenever I was out in public with Eddy.

Then, when I could no longer bear it, I made a move that Eddy would never forgive - I broke free from his grip.

"Excuse me," I muttered.

Nobody stopped me, but I felt Eddy's threatening gaze snatch up my skin as I walked away from them, away from the reception hall, down the long corridor where the bathroom was.

I walked past the changing room, a pair of oil paintings that stared at me like witnesses to my escape, then I was standing in front of the restroom door.

It was empty. I pushed my way through, closing the door against the almost fading sound of the string quartets.

The bathroom was a luxurious space of white marble tiles and a light that shone very bright. A space where Eddy couldn't see me.

I turned on the tap and buried my palms under the sink.

All the pain came at once. I felt my face warm up quickly with the tears I was sure didn't start falling now.

"A project under construction."

I couldn't believe this was my life, but then, Connor's face took form in my head.

I remembered the dream, his touches, his gaze, his words, I felt it all over again, and I allowed myself to drown in the promise they provided.

Looking up at my image in the mirror, I nodded to a voice that was only in my head.

I was beautiful. He had looked at me like that. 

Then, as if that was the moment of permission I needed, I dared to break free from holding back, allowing my imaginations to control my reality.

I closed my eyes, pressing my hands against the marble counter.

"I think you're beautiful"

"Do it."

Then, I felt his warm lips against mine. As expected, it tasted better than I had thought.

My thighs clenched fiercely. Not from a promised pain this time, from a desire that had sprouted from my dream.

My hand moved from the counter uncontrolled, and I felt my finger trail across my thighs.

That was when the door snapped open, the dense outside air shoving in my face, pulling me back to reality.

But I had locked the door. Have I? 

I fought with my thoughts, but my body stilled completely, just for a second when the face of the person who had opened the door came into view.