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I thought our arranged marriage had turned into love for both of us. I discovered how wrong I was the day when I heard him calling his mistress and saying that he would divorce me soon.
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"It's sorted."
"She has no idea. I've got it all in hand."
He's on the phone. My stomach swoops low, something uneasy slithering down my spine.
Before I choose between flight and freeze, he hums softly, a hint of softness creeping in. "Silvia, you need to trust me." The fangs sink deep into my skin, making my heart lurch in my chest. Silvia was his friend, someone he's grown up with, someone who hated me on-sight and has taken every opportunity to slice at me with her razor-sharp tongue.
"I'll get her father to sign the papers when I'm back. I told you all of this before we left. Once everything's in my name, I'll end it. Silvia, for Christ's sake," he suddenly grunts out, frustration leaking through.
"Look, I can't talk about this right now. I'll meet with you as soon as we're back. I've already put plans in motion that will cut our trip short 'unexpectedly'." He chuckles, but nothing about it sounds familiar. It feels like I'm listening to a stranger, not the man I promised forever to.
"I'll see you in a few days, sweetheart."
My throat feels so thick, as if it's closing up. I suck in a rough breath, taking another step out into the hallway and slowly easing the door closed.
Spinning on my heel, I practically run for the elevator, mashing the button until the doors slide open and revealing an empty car. Relief spikes, but it barely dents the adrenaline and panic racing through my system. I hit the button for the lobby and then lift my phone, pulling up my contacts. Scrolling frantically through them, I find the one I want and press it, listening to it ring once before a voice answers.
"I need help."
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Lily
"You sure you don't want to come with me?"
My husband–because I can call him that now–lies back on the massive bed, legs crossed at the ankle and arms tucked behind his head. He's wearing dark sweats, but is shirtless, the heat of the day combating the A/C in our suite. My eyes linger on him, unable to believe that this man is mine, and his lips curl up into a lazy grin, flashing white teeth at me. Butterflies take off in my belly, as strong as they were the day I met him just over a year ago.
"I'm sure, baby," Declan tells me smoothly, his voice like honeyed whiskey stroking each nerve-ending. "I'm sick of sand, honestly. And I didn't sleep well last night." He shoots me a saucy wink, and I flush with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. Before him, I honestly thought something was wrong with me. Love was just something you did with someone, but it was never anything to brag home about. But now... as soon as Declan puts a finger on me, or as soon as he whispers his dirty words in my hair, I feel like I lose my mind.
Even now, the ache between my thighs isn't enough to tempt me away from crawling into bed with him, except I can see the faint bruises lining his eyes. He's not lying about being tired.
"Alright." I tug my beach tote up onto my shoulder, sliding my flip-flops on. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, but I have my phone if you need me." He tips his chin at me, eyes already heavy-lidded, but I can't resist leaning over the bed for one last peck. Almost immediately, his hand curls around the back of the head, holding me firmly as he takes over, his tongue dipping into my mouth and tangling against mine with sensual promise.
When I finally drag myself away with a reluctant groan, his lips are shiny, his tongue trailing over the bottom one as if chasing the taste of me. His eyes are molten and dark, pools of melted chocolate drawing me in like a magnet. He chuckles, a husky sound, his hand letting me go to trail a soft hand over my cheek, his thumb pressing into the corner of my mouth. "Sorry, baby. Stubble burn."
"It's okay," I murmur, adding dryly, "It's not the only place you got me."
His eyes dip down, tracing over breasts covered in my yellow sundress and then further down, to where the hemline playfully flirts with my upper thighs.
Swallowing thickly, I take a step back. "I'd better go." He nods, hand dropping away, his eyes tracking me as I leave the bedroom. I half-shut the door, checking I've got my room key on me and then head out, looking forward to lounging in the sun for the third day in a row. It's only the first week of our two-week long honeymoon at a resort in Hawaii. After the stress of planning a wedding for over a hundred guests, it's been heaven to relax, cocooned in our little bubble together.
From almost the first moment of meeting Declan, I knew he was it for me; that he was the one. It'd been a cute meet–me leaving the Sugar Bean, and him going in with his eyes on his phone. We'd crashed into each other and my hazelnut latte had gone everywhere, luckily cold enough that it hadn't burned. Dec had apologized profusely, insisting on trying to clean me up and buying me a fresh coffee. I'd been late for a yoga class at Sasha's studio, but he'd convinced me into sharing a table with him and then he was giving me his phone number and demanding I call him so I'd have his.
Lurching out of my daydreams, I frown in front of the elevator, trying to remember if I'd actually grabbed my phone before I'd left, or if it was still on the side table near the door. A quick search through my bag doesn't turn it up, so I head back and quietly edge the door open, not wanting to wake him if he's already asleep. My phone is right there, so I reach out to grab it just as I hear his voice from the bedroom.
"It's sorted." I pause, unused to hearing such a dispassionate tone from him. I open my mouth to ask what he's talking about, sure he must have heard me come back in, but then he keeps talking. "She has no idea. I've got it all in hand."
Lily
He's on the phone. My stomach swoops low, something uneasy slithering down my spine. It almost feels like a scaly snake, looking for a place to sink its fangs, and I debate whether to leave or keep listening to a conversation I'm a thousand percent positive I'm not supposed to be hearing. Before I choose between flight and freeze, he hums softly, a hint of softness creeping in. "Silvia, you need to trust me." The fangs sink deep into my skin, making my heart lurch in my chest. Silvia was his friend, someone he's grown up with, someone who hated me on-sight and has taken every opportunity to slice at me with her razor-sharp tongue. I mentioned it to Declan once. Not anything bad, just that she made me uncomfortable, but he'd just dismissed my worries, telling me it was all in my head. After the third time, he'd snapped, telling me my insecurities were not Silvia's–or his–problem and she was one of his oldest friends, so I needed to find a way to get on with her. I'd learned real quick to keep my mouth shut, terrified of rocking the boat. Even when I'd heard her cackling with her friends about my lack of class, my gap-toothed smile, and the fact I was reaching by thinking I could ever keep someone like Declan Masters. Declan, who'd always said the gap between my front teeth was endearing. I was so in love with him, I'd been blind to every single red flag, but I'm seeing them now. Why is he talking to her on our honeymoon? And what don't I know? Because he was talking about me. I'm not naive enough to believe otherwise. "I have it all under control, sweetheart." The endearment has my heart thundering so hard, I'm concerned I'm about to reenact a scene from Alien when the organ just bursts out of my chest. There's a long pause and a muffled step, like he's moving around the bedroom. I shuffle backwards, tucking myself behind the door and spinning wildly for an excuse for if he suddenly comes into the other room and finds me there. "I'll get her father to sign the papers when I'm back. I told you all of this before we left. Once everything's in my name, I'll end it. Silvia, for Christ's sake," he suddenly grunts out, frustration leaking through. I can almost see him thrusting a hand through his blond hair as he glares off into space. "Cut the dramatics, would you? You know that this is the way it had to be done. He was never just going to hand the company over to me, not when there's so much bad blood between him and my father." Another pause, but then he sighs. "Look, I can't talk about this right now. I'll meet with you as soon as we're back. I've already put plans in motion that will cut our trip short 'unexpectedly'." He chuckles, but nothing about it sounds familiar. It feels like I'm listening to a stranger, not the man I promised forever to. "I'll see you in a few days, sweetheart." My throat feels so thick, as if it's closing up. I suck in a rough breath, taking another step out into the hallway and slowly easing the door closed. The click of the lock engaging sounds like a gunshot, and I trip backwards, staring at the wooden paneling, waiting for it to open and for my husband to appear, his eyes cold and accusing. A minute later and nothing happens. I can't stay here, though. I can't face him when I don't understand what's happening, but I know it's not good. He's lied about everything, and now I'm lost, unsure what I should do. Spinning on my heel, I practically run for the elevator, mashing the button until the doors slide open and revealing an empty car. Relief spikes, but it barely dents the adrenaline and panic racing through my system. I hit the button for the lobby and then lift my phone, pulling up my contacts. Scrolling frantically through them, I find the one I want and press it, listening to it ring once before a voice answers. "I need help."
Lily
The waves roll gently against the sand, the sounds of people laughing and splashing reaching my ears. The breeze is warm, tangling in my loose hair and the palm fronds shading me from above. I dig my toes into the warm sand, feeling the gritty texture and letting it ground me in the present.
In my ear, Sasha asks quietly, "Did you misunderstand?" We've been on the phone for two hours, talking everything out–and racking up an enormous phone bill–but I still feel just as lost as when I first called. "You need to be sure about this. Especially if you're thinking of doing something drastic." Like divorce him, I supply silently. That's pretty darn drastic. "Declan is..." she falters, but pushes on, "he loves you. Anyone can see that. Do you really think he's this good of an actor? To fool you and everyone else?"
It's not the first time she's asked, but I understand her reticence. She didn't hear what I heard. "It was pretty hard to misunderstand." I'm not proud of the bitterness in my voice, but I'm giving myself some grace. I fall silent, waiting for a couple to pass in front of me, their hands tucked around each other's waists and their smiles bright. "He called her sweetheart," I remind Sasha. "He promised to meet with her as soon as we get back. You know, after he unexpectedly cuts our trip short."
She hums her agreement, unable to argue with the facts. She knows how Silvia has treated me over the past year, and how Declan has brushed my concerns off. "Are you going to tell your dad?"
I've been turning this over and over in my mind, wondering what the right thing to do is. If I tell my father about Declan's duplicity, he'll cancel the sale of Hi-Tech immediately. I'm his only child, and it's been just as for a long time after my mother packed up and left when I was four. He's always had my back, and this won't be any different. But... "He's planning on retiring, Sash. He's over the moon that he's gained a son in Dec and has someone to pass the company on to. You know I never wanted that, and he hid it well, but he was always a little disappointed about that."
"I know," she murmurs. "But if he finds out he sold it to Declan and you didn't tell him? That'll kill him, Lily."
"He'll still have the money, though." I know Declan is paying a fair price for Hi-Tech, just a little under market value. But Dad had insisted on that, calling it a family discount.
"You dad doesn't care about the money," she argues.
"If only I'd picked someone to marry who was like him," I muse. "Isn't that what usually happens? You marry someone who reminds you of your father?"
"You thought you did. Are you sure–?"
"Sasha," I interrupt, "If Declan wanted the company so badly that he would fake a relationship with me for a year and then marry me, he's welcome to it. I know Dad loves Hi-Tech, but there's more to life than the business." I pause, swallowing past the thickness in my throat. "But what do I do right now?" I hate the lost note to my question, knowing she'll hear it. We've been friends since middle school and, apart from my father, no one knows me better than Sasha Delware.
She sighs softly, and I wish so badly that she was here right now, talking me down in person. "You get you in order, Lily, and fake it til you make it. Put his acting to shame, and pretend nothing is amiss until you get home."
"And then?"
"And then you get away from Declan Masters."
I sniffle quietly, my emotions finally overwhelming me. My left hand lies limply in my lap, the diamonds on the silver bands gleaming at me. Mocking me. "I thought he was my forever," I whisper, clenching my hand into a fist and looking away. "I thought–" My voice cracks and I clamp my lips shut, unwilling to give in to the swell of emotion, knowing if I do, I won't be able to lock it back down.
"I know," she says soothingly. "It's going to be okay. We'll get you through this."
My phone buzzes in my hand and I pull it away from my ear, finding a new message from my husband.
Declan: Hey baby, where are you? Our reservations are in an hour.
Putting the phone back to my ear, I murmur, "I have to go. He's looking for me."
Sasha firms up her voice, telling me, "You have this. He doesn't know who he's messing with."
"It doesn't feel like it, Sash. I feel like a crumpled, broken doll."
"Well, you do and you aren't." She sounds huffy now, and I can't help the smile. "And as soon as you get back, I'll tape you together–"
"I thought I wasn't a broken doll," I interrupt, but she ignores me.
"And we'll drink tequila until our faces are numb and we're puking our guts out. And when you don't even remember that scumbag's name, you'll get under some hot new thing." Her voice turns sly, "You know, Justin will be thrilled about this new development."
I wince. "We're just friends," I remind her.
"Babe, if he ever looked at me the way he looks at you, my underwear would actually catch fire."
I splutter out a laugh. "Thanks for that visual," I tell her dryly. "You're welcome to him."
"He doesn't want me, Lily. He was devastated at the wedding, I could tell."
"I know the feeling."
Thankfully, she lets the subject go; the conversation turning a little lighter as we chat for a few more minutes. My phone vibrates again, another message from Declan telling me he's getting worried, so I reluctantly end the call, feeling all the hopelessness and devastation rush back in. He was the first person I'd truly trusted with my heart, and he'd callously crushed it. And for what?
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