Page 15 of Always Meant To Be
“Ah fuck,” Antonio mutters from next to me, his body deflating a little.
Sneering at Romeo, I turn and kiss Antonio’s cheek and whisper, “Say hi to Maya for me, and please apologize for my canceling yesterday; I was just behind on grading after a student nearly set the classroom on fire.”
Antonio nods, sending me a sad smile, but I ignore it and walk toward my husband, stopping shy of touching him, and showing him my anger for the first time. I state, “Maybe you could ring Liliya, you know, because eggs benedict is her favorite after all, but I guess you knew that already, huh?” Romeo slowly closes his eyes, and I whisper, “I find it funny you accuse me of something, knowing I have been one hundred percent faithful to you because you’re always being reported back to by one of your goons, and yet you’re the one who seems to always be with my sister, even when we’re at events, showing everyone who you would have preferred to have married. Tell me, husband, where were you the day after we got married, hmmm? Why did I have to suffer a family breakfast without you? Where was my sister?” His jaw ticks, and I scoff, “You’re pathetic. Just divorce me and go to the one you really want.”
I sneer at the fucker, and then turn to walk away, but he grabs my arm and murmurs, “I’ll have the chef make pancakes with strawberries and berries,” ignoring my jabs at him and my sister.
I raise a brow at him, then make eye contact with Antonio, and sarcastically say, "Well, look at that. He does know my favorite breakfast after all. He just got me and my sister mixed up." He flinches, and I look back at my husband and snipe, "Well done. Ten points, Romeo.”
His nostrils flare at my calling him Romeo instead of Rome, but I ignore him, rip my arm out of his grip, and walk away, saying over my shoulder, “Go spend time with Liliya, Romeo; it’s obvious you preferred her this morning, otherwise, you wouldn’t have tried to kill me.”
Antonio’s eyes widen as I walk past him. Getting near the door, I grab my briefcase and coat before stating over my shoulder, “By the way, Antonio, Maya thinks you're screwing the maid.”
His mouth drops open, and he stutters, “I-I haven’t fucked anyone else in four years since I realized what she means to me, and that I’m her fucking only.”
I shrug and admit, “You're still her only, but she’s probably seeing something that isn’t there, you know, with the whole, ‘screwing a whore while she sat in the bathroom on your wedding night’ thing. She’s getting revenge. Your favorite chocolate balls are rabbit droppings pressed together.”
His face pales as he gags, and I grin, not once looking at Romeo, before I walk out of the house, heading to the garage to my old Ford that I bought for myself with my first paycheck.
Romeo threw a hissy fit when he saw it, but this car is my pride and joy; I bought it for myself without help from anyone.
It’s all mine.
It’s not brand new, but it’s in tip-top condition. It was the one thing I allowed him to do just so I could keep it, and over the first six months, I paid him back every cent he spent fixing all the problems. He didn’t like it, but he didn’t have a say, just like hedoesn’t have a say in the fact that I have my own bank account, and haven’t touched the card he gave me.
I won’t rely on him; I just can’t. I know I need to have his heir to leave him. I have a year to get pregnant, but right now, the thought of getting pregnant terrifies me, especially when I know my own flipping sister is on his mind, the woman he was supposed to marry.
Sighing, I climb into my car and drive away from the large mansion, not looking back but feeling his eyes on me.
At the school, I smile, watching my students rush out, happy it’s the end of the day, while I’m just glad no one tried to set the room on fire today.
“Bye, Mrs. Russo,” Alise says from near the door, and I give her a smile and a wave as my phone goes off.
As soon as the door shuts, I grab it but furrow my brows, seeing it’s from an unknown number and open it up. Everything inside me freezes, my eyes taking in the image on the screen before I throw my phone hard on the desk, my good mood well and truly gone. I hear it crack and instantly wince, knowing I’ll have to dip into my savings to fix the screen.
“Damn you, Romeo,” I mutter as I wipe away the traitorous tears; the picture of my husband, the man who owns all of me, a man who bought me, my body, wrapped around my sister in his office in our marital home. It’s forever burned in my brain.
“Damn you,” I whisper again, sniffling before grabbing my phone again.
I can’t do this anymore; I just can’t.
I click the home button, and thankfully, the screen still works despite being cracked. Wiping away the tears, I go into my contacts and press call on the clinic, my mind made up.
It rings five times before someone picks up.
“Hi, this is Ever’s Clinic. How may I help you?” a woman answers.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Hi, this is Elena Russo. I’m calling to confirm my five o’clock appointment.”
I hear a few clicks before she confirms, “Your appointment for your up-to-date contraception shot is still in place.”
I thank her before hanging up, more tears falling.
I’m struggling because I know how my heart feels about him; I’m in love with him, yet I don’t think I can continue this marriage.
I’ll never be her, and I don’t want to be.
In order to leave him, I have to give him a baby, I know this, but how can I bring a child into this world knowing my sister would be left to look after it, to torture it?