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She took in a sharp breath, about to explode in a tempter tantrum. “I said—I’m. Not. Hungry.”

Yeah, her usual antics weren’t going to work, either. “I see. Well, I’m going to order you something anyway. You have to eat it or I’ll feed you myself.”

“Fuck me and I’ll eat whatever you want!” she threw into the air just when I was about to pick up the phone receiver from its cradle.

Letting go of the phone, I ground my teeth together before I spun around to face her, throwing the truth in her face. “Never again, Amelia. Besides the fact that I’m divorcing you and you’re taking your sweet bloody time to sign it, I’m done fucking around with my life. It’s time to move forward.”

Her eyes sharpened, almost squinting at me as if she’d detected something I had no clue about. “Huh,” she huffed. “When’s the last time you had sex?”

Epic question coming from her, truly. How dare she ask me that? “You have the audacity to question me when everyone in this town, or maybe the entirety of Spain, know about your illicit affair with an influential married man!”

“Nice try.” She seemed unfazed as she blinked back a few times, fanning her lashes as she probed again, “When was it, Toby?”

I growled, about to lose my temper, “Drop it, Amelia.”

“Who is she?” Her hand shook a little as she strode towards me, looking enraged and possessed but with a calm, eerie voice. “Is it your cold, English bitch?”

That did it. I immediately snapped when the word bitch was said. “Don’t you fucking dare call her that!” I roared inches away from her.

“I can call her whatever I like,” she screamed into my face, pointing her accusing finger at me. “I’m your wife! Your motherfucking wife! I have the right to everything!”

“But you aren’t really, are you?” Without my temper in check, my voice boomed about the hotel suite. It even echoed. I was at my last wits, and with Amelia being so stubborn, it made it twice as difficult to mend fences with her. “I can file for annulment if I wanted to, but I was advised not to burden your family of extra humiliation on top of all this.”

Out of nowhere, she launched herself at me, trying to paw my face, however I swiftly moved the side and it landed on my neck instead. Sharp nails bit into my skin. The burn of flesh being opened made me wince as she scratched with all her might.

The need to shake her body and put some bloody fucking sense into her was tempting, but even in my fury, logic interrupted, reminding me that I was dealing with a pregnant woman.

“Bloody Hell! What the fuck did you do that for?” I hissed, hurling the words at her.

She immediately tried to punch me on the chest before I grabbed her hand. Then she used her other fist to hit my shoulder.

Moving behind her body, I wrapped both of my arms around her, holding her down in a gridlock as she tried to thrash against me, cursing and screaming profanities in Spanish.

“Calm the fuck down. You’re acting like a demented woman. A fucking lunatic. Get a hold of yourself!”

Again, for the second time tonight, her reaction surprised me, baffling me to no end, when she started uncontrollably sobbing.

I took a moment, absorbing the sharp turn of events. My heart raced against my ribcage while I tried to think what to do next. I hadn’t encountered anything like this—a woman who was a she-devil turning into a broken one who couldn’t stop crying. It was as if she’d held her tears in for such a long time, that our argument seemed to have snapped her composure and weeping immediately came barreling in with nothing to stop it.

Like a broken dam, Amelia’s cries only became louder, howling as if she was in deep pain.

Loosening my hold of her whimpering body, I took a deep breath and tried to soothe her. “I’m sorry,” I whispered into her ear, knowing how much I regretted putting ourselves in this predicament. “But you must understand, we need to live our lives. You need to let go of this grudge—it’s ruining you inside. Please, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” My voice shook when a piercing sound came from her, like a sound or the noise a dying animal would make.

“Cansado de la vida…” she whimpered before giving another shaky breath, “Cansado… de la… vida…” she kept on muttering in between sobs before dropping to her knees as if she had no energy left.

Instantly, I was right next to her, sitting as I pulled her body close, resting her head on my lap, stroking her hair then her arm repeatedly as she howled her pain away.

She cried. Non-stop. Until she no longer could. It had probably been about an hour when she finally became silent.

Taking a peek at her tear-stained face, I found her fast asleep. I stared at her countenance, really looking at her for the first time. In this state, she looked like any gullible woman, and she probably was. After all the hurt, and I was assuming, betrayal she had endured from her lover, she’d coped the only way she knew how. It was sad that her coping mechanism was the worst kind there was, but who could reason with a broken person? I was one, too, and I remembered Blake and Chad had tried to intervene against my ceaseless acts of destruction. Truthfully, at that time, I couldn’t see anything other than the lacerating pain dislodged inside me, choking me each time I took a breath, killing me slowly from within.

Heartache could be the cruelest kind of mourning. People died from it. Some might take months, but others readily gave up weeks right after getting their heart smashed into smithereens.

With care, I slowly took hold of her limp body. The baby bump protruded amidst the sea of fabric of her dress. Guilt settled in as I carried her to the extra bedroom in the suite. Pulling the covers down, I placed her in the middle of the soft mattress and covered her body with the feather comforter.

Looking down on her, I felt a harsh stab of regret—of sadness and maybe a little guilt. Even though she didn’t love me that way, I knew that I somehow had caused her injury, even if it was on a smaller scale compared to her other heartaches.

Had she always been this way? Seeing her breakdown had made me doubt that. She probably had been impressionable, arms wide open for love, and unfortunately, had chosen the wrong men in her life. They’d bulldozed her with endless promises before she’d fully given them her trust. However, once they’d had it, they had taken advantage of her gullibility and thrown her heart away. It was true, her heart had been broken. The only difference now was that she also had a broken soul and destroyed spirit.


Tags: Pamela Ann Chasing Young Adult