Staying strong when everything in me demands the contrary will tear me apart.
I look up at the clear sky, but there’s no message written there, no cure for my predicament, just some distant stars flickering their light in endless coldness.
For the next several hours, we mingle, dance, eat, and as the guests trickle out, I breathe a sigh of relief.
The soles of my feet throb, pulsing with pain. My feet are killing me, and all I want is to toss these sandals and put on something comfortable.
I am exhausted, physically and emotionally.
Tristan places his palm on my back, urging me into the car, and I close my eyes.
The wedding was nothing in comparison to living together. The challenge has just begun. Alone with him, I am prone to slip more often than I want. He sees through my pretense and takes advantage of it.
Rubbing my calves, I count the minutes until we reach home.
Without asking, he gets on his knees and unbuckles the straps, slipping one sandal then the other off my feet, kneading the swollen tissues. His touch feels divine, and after being in fight mode for so long, I lack the strength to stop him.
When the driver parks in the underground garage, he gathers me in his arms, my sandals dangling from his fingers.
Inside the private elevator, I slip my hand in his suit pocket and then swipe the key card on the panel to bring us to the penthouse.
Each floor reminds me that this will be my home.
That our married life has just started.
The doors slide open.
Home sweet home.
Except it’s nothing sweet. Just like us—it’s a blend of temptation and obsession, madness interwoven with love. All intense. All dangerous.
From the very beginning, I grasped that I wasn’t equipped to handle him. Yet I went for it, his pull too strong to resist, his call too potent to ignore.
Recklessness got me into this situation. I can’t escape him even if I wanted to.
24
TRISTAN
The moonlight floods the living room, casting a spotlight on her, making her appear ethereal—the epitome of beauty, a goddess.
I can’t peel my eyes off her, gorging on the sight of my wife as she walks toward the window, placing her palm on it.
Tipping her chin up, she looks straight at the sky as if praying. For what? I don’t know. And it’s irrelevant. She can’t escape me.
Rooted in place, I cock my head, the silence chock full of restrained love and pure hurt.
I had no choice with her. It was beyond my capacity to stay away from her.
She thinks my betrayal is an elaborate scheme, part of a strategy. It’s not. It wasn’t. She couldn’t be more wrong. I am just a man who fell, and fell some more—in love, in obsession, reaching the bottom of madness.
“What now, Viviana?” I sigh, pulling her out of the trance.
She slants me a hard gaze that is etched in bitterness. I would raze this world and build one from scratch to make her agony disappear.
She stomps down the hall, stepping inside a guest bedroom.
I clench my hands at my sides, anger lashing at me.
