Love in the Eye of the Storm

Chapter 6

He furrowed his brow, a flicker of rage flashing in his dark eyes. It felt like he was trying to tear me apart from the inside, pulling me down into some abyss.

"How long are you going to keep this up?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"I'm not making a scene, Alexander. I really want to talk about us getting a divorce, "

Before I could finish, his temper snapped. In the blink of an eye, his grip tightened around my waist, and his lips crashed down on mine with a fury that almost knocked the breath out of me.

When I loved him, I was willing to share everything. But now, that love had twisted into something unrecognizable, and the kiss felt like a cruel joke. His lips were tainted with Chelsea's perfume, and I recoiled at the thought of us being this close.

"Don't touch me!" I shouted, pushing against him with every ounce of strength I had left.

But it only made him snap even further. The more I pushed, the more forcefully he kissed me, like he was determined to break me down, piece by piece. Even when I tasted blood, he didn't stop. It was as if my lips were some kind of delicate prize he couldn't resist, and he was desperate to claim it.

I couldn't shake the image of him with Chelsea, wrapped around her like he used to be with me. If I hadn't walked in on them, their lips would've been entwined just like that. The memory of him tenderly holding Chelsea, while my beloved Buddy lay dead, was unbearable.

A wave of nausea hit me, and then he tore at my dress. The sound of fabric ripping echoed in the room, making me tremble with disgust.

"I said, don't touch me!" I screamed, pushing against him with all my strength.

His grip faltered for a moment, but then I swung my hand, slapping him hard across the face.

He froze, staring at me in shock, disbelief flooding his features.

"Did you just hit me? Y-You really don't want me to touch you?" His voice trembled, a vulnerability I didn't expect.

I stood my ground, on edge, afraid of what he might do next. Taking a steadying breath, I spoke, my voice firm, "Yes, I don't want you touching me."

"Because you're filthy," I added, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

I'd always believed in us, forever. Us against the world. But now? Now, everything felt like it was crumbling. He had let Chelsea sit on his lap, kiss him, even move into our home. It was more than I could bear.

"Filthy?" He looked at me like I'd slapped him again. He sneered, his face hardening. "Fine. If you don't want me, I'm not begging."

With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. My heart twisted, and I doubled over, clutching my chest as waves of agony washed over me.

No matter how tightly I tried to hold myself together, the pain wouldn't stop.

I staggered to the bathroom, and the metallic taste of blood rose in my throat. I leaned over the sink, gagging and spitting it out.

It hurt so much.

I remembered the times when I'd been in pain before. Back then, Alexander would hold me, whispering soft words that made everything feel a little better. Even through the pain, his warmth had given me hope.

But now, curled up on the cold bathroom floor, no amount of self-hugging could bring me comfort. The icy grip of despair cut through me, making everything hurt even worse.

When I finally crawled back into bed, sleep wouldn't come. I stared at the ceiling, counting the seconds until I couldn't take it anymore. Reaching for my phone, I was about to dial when it rang. I hesitated when I saw Alexander's name, but I answered anyway.

"Alexander, all I want is this house. I don't want anything else. Let's just get a divorce."