Chapter 7
Blinding white filled my entire vision as Damari Ross sat by my bedside, chain-smoking.
“You hate me that much,” he murmured, his eyes red as if he'd been crying.
He stared intently at my belly. “You even went so far as to harm our child.”
In that moment, fueled by hatred, I wanted nothing more than to hurl the most venomous words at him. Isn't it true that you only feel the pain when it’s your own skin?
“Yes, Damari, I wanted to hurt him to get back at you,” I shot back.
His voice shook. “Why involve the child in our issues?”
Why indeed?
I wanted to ask the same question. But instead, I said, “If you and Nora hadn’t been tangled up together, he wouldn’t have died. It's you who are responsible. You and Nora.”
“Harlee…” Damari’s voice rose sharply, cutting me off. “Leave Nora out of this. She didn’t know anything.”
God, how I wanted to laugh when I heard that. Even now, he was protecting her.
I looked at him. “Damari, can’t you see how blind you are? Do you think Nora doesn’t know she's hurting me? Or that she’s oblivious she's playing the other woman?”
Damari’s frown deepened. “Harlee, stop being so confrontational. There’s nothing between Nora and me.”
Confrontational? I stared at the man before me, whose harsh words seemed foreign. He was a stranger now.
I looked at him and sneered. “Damari Ross, your hypocrisy is sickening. Both you and Nora deserve…”
His body jerked, then he suddenly gripped my shoulders and laughed. “Harlee, do you understand the consequences of what you’ve done?”
Consequences? All I wanted was to tear him and Nora apart.
I glared at him. “I, Harlee Gilbert, can handle any consequence.”
My words made his face flush, and he breathed heavily. We were like two wild animals on the edge, watching each other intently, eager to tear into one another.
Then he pulled me into an embrace, and suddenly, we were like lovers in the heat of passion. He whispered softly in my ear, “Harlee, did you know? I was planning to start over with you once I ended things with Nora.”
He paused, as if remembering something, and then added cruelly, “But you’re not worth it.”
Each word dripped with his hatred. “Don’t worry, I won’t divorce you. I want you to watch as Nora and I thrive, to feel the torture while you remain Mrs. Ross.”
In the silence of the room, I seemed to see a seventeen-year-old Damari, timidly tugging at my sleeve, “Harlee, will you still want me?”
“Okay.”
Alright, Damari Ross, I’ll want you, but don’t ever make me regret it.
The sorrow was like a dull knife, relentlessly cutting into my heart. The pain was excruciating. Yet, I embraced him back, and I heard myself say quickly and softly, “Then I wish you both a love as strong as steel, inseparable till death.”
You may also like
