"Selene...? Are you inside? May I come in...?"
It was my husband yet again. What awful timing.
I quickly shut the closet and made my way to the door; I wasn't planning on getting caught already.
I creaked open my door, just enough for the other party to see my face.
I was beyond surprised by the figure in front of me. It was, of course, none other than my husband. However, something was different.
He was a mess. A really, really big mess.
"Do you have anything to say...? Say it from here. You don't need in," I grumbled. He was the last person I wanted to see today, after that conversation. I'd rather be dragged than have another useless chatter with this man. Still, a part of me was still the Siena that fell in inlove with him—I guess my first love outweighed my hate.
"You...fine." He hesitated but finally resigned.
"I...can you give me more time? Please," he pleaded.
I was stunned. Was the word 'divorce' such a huge shock for him?
"So what. I've been miserable, and I still am."nI continued, "Do you think that 'time' you're asking for will help the both of us?" I swallowed my tears, fearing that I'll end up showing this man my vulnerability.
"You are dead to me,"
I say, pointing hard at his chest. "Just like I have been to you for the last 3 years, Theo," I said it straight to his face, maintaining eye contact that I couldn't even bear to do in the past.
"I gave you a chance." He glared and scoffed.
"I don't need it," I retorted. It took me by surprise when he grabbed my chin, causing me to let go of the door, and my footing became unbalanced.
"No room for negotiations then," I felt his breath on the tip of my nose.
too close...
I averted my gaze from the blue orbs that were staring me down. Maybe—just maybe—I might get lost in those ocean eyes again, and I couldn't afford that.
"Could we please...just have a normal conversation? Please," I begged. The pressure was on me, and it was too much. Especially in this position, where I could barely struggle from his clutches.
His body was against mine, with his hands on my waist. I hated how I would always be reminded of my past self.
"We're having it right now." Without a doubt, his lips crashed into mine before I could have a moment to think.
I don't want this.
At least, I tell myself I don't.
I was repulsed. I felt something inside me stir—something painful, something familiar. It was the same as before. The same warmth, the same taste, the same hesitant linger that once felt like a quiet plea to stay. And for one aching moment, I do.
My mind drags me backward. To a time when this touch was welcome, when my body responded without question, when my heart leapt instead of recoiled. I remember how I used to lean into this, how I used to crave it, how I used to believe it was something unbreakable.
But time is merciless. Love changed. We changed. And now, all that remains is the cruel trick of muscle memory—of knowing that if I close my eyes, I could almost believe we hadn't ruined it.
"Let go of me." I pulled away, just enough to remind myself that I had a much greater goal
than this. "You—!" Tears, again. This time, it was flowing uncontrollably like a raging waterfall. And there it was, the very reminder I needed to pull myself together. All this man ever does is make me cry.
The next thing I knew, he forcibly made his way into my room while his kisses were Frantic, his frustration evident with every movement. His grip refused to let me go, with hands trembling, desiring something raw and desperate. His touch was like sin—tempting. Yet there was nothing good about it.
"I—" I tried to speak, but that only angered him more. Pinning me against the wall, he slowly tightened his grip on my waist, afraid of letting go—as if it meant losing me forever. "You will never leave me," he whispered against my lips, catching his breath in between. "I know," his voice was raw and pained. The latter words surprised me. Did he know I was trying to flee? How?
My heart raced, my breath uneven, trying to make sense of it all.
"I'm not running," I managed, trying hard to conceal the words I was supposed to mean.
My fists were trembling against his chest.
"And even if I do, what's that got to do with you? " I said, staring straight in those bright blue orbs.
He didn't answer and only exhaled sharply, pressing his forehead against mine. I could feel him easing his touch, and for a moment, I saw him as a pitiful man. "Then stay," he murmured, his voice as gentle as I could recall. I could only stare at the window behind his broad shoulders, and that night, no other words left my mouth.
***
The room was now left with me only.
After a long, tense atmosphere of silence, Theodore decided to leave after maintaining that position for too long. He left with no words and an expressionless face.
Maybe—just maybe he realized what he did was wrong. I had those hopes.
I stared at the room where it happened: the moments in my married life when I truly felt happy. My eyes then followed towards the bed naturally, where I made love with my husband—and remembering how I felt at that moment only made me recoil. Everything felt…wrong. I felt as though I was watching a distorted film of my own life.
I blink. My chest tightens, and my breath becomes shallow. Each inhale required conscious effort, an act of struggle to survive. It wasn't a dream; it was clear and undeniable. I acknowledged my feelings when he touched me; I was longing for him.
My heart pounded when his lips found mine, and I was the epitome of contradiction. My inner feelings were thrown into a turmoil, but I hadn't forgotten my goal.
I knew it was dangerous. That if I decided to do this, my heart would waver like earlier. And that there'd be no turning back. But I also knew that there was nothing more perfect than this—uncertainty tightens in my chest, but there was no room for doubt now.
This is the moment. The choice I make now will change everything.
He was testing the waters, and I was about to play with fire. I composed my thoughts and came to a verdict.
"I will make you suffer like I did," I spoke with resolve. It was clear as day that he had no plans to separate; what's more, he was exhausting himself to convince me to stay by his side. By that deduction, I decided to do exactly as he wanted. To give up my wish and stay. I became bold and assumed he wanted me again. And I would give in to those desires. Ultimately, once he falls through, I will leave—as if "Selene Lancaster" never existed. And with that, I finally found my purpose. To see things until the end.