Page 70 of Love is So Mean
“Were these custom made after my proposal as well?”
“No. Why would I prep for this when it wasn’t supposed to get out to the public?”
I don’t respond since it was a more rhetorical question anyway and reach for the all black everything option.
“You can go, Matthew.” Yasmeena tells Matthew who has been standing there. Before he leaves, Matthew sighs and hands me a folder, he looks worried but he doesn’t say a word as he walks out.
The contents in the folders seem so ridiculous I release a short burst of laughter. Keeping the paper that was inside, I drop the folder on the table so I have both hands available to ball it up. I toss the paper in Yasmeena’s direction. It bounces from the couch and hits her thigh before settling next to her.
She lifts her eyebrow as she glares at me so I rip up the folder just in case she didn’t get the message.
“I’ll give you a minute or another month, you seem fond of them.”
“It looks like you found your voice while I was gone. Next time, find the energy to move your ass and give me the damn divorce papers yourself.”
Yasmeena stands with the papers she smoothed out in her hand and walks over to me, handing them to me. “Like I said,I’ll give you a month.” She turns but stops for a second when she hears the ripping of paper. Yasmeena squares her shoulders then continues to walk back to where she was sitting.
She makes immediate eye contact with me the second she sits.
“No. You’re not going to get fucking with my relationship status at your whim. We stay married.Youhave a month to accept that.”
We’re caught in the middle of a stare off when there are a couple knocks on the door before Emily comes waltzing inside.
Fuck. I’m not in the mood for this.
By the smug expression on her face, I already know she’s the one who set this up for her company. I should have known when they said it was based in New York. Ignoring both of them, I pull off my shirt to start getting dressed since both parties in the room have seen me naked plenty of times.
Chapter 42
Yasmeena
Enrique ripping up the divorce papers makes me want to question why he’s fighting this at all when this was going to be our end result. He thinks I’m fucking with his relationship status but I’m trying to give him back what he wants.
It shouldn’t be confused with me gaining a random emotion, it’s not. I’m thinking rationally as I’ve always done. He isn’t going to give me what I want and I see that now.
There’s no chance for me to reply as Emily, the answer to all his problems walks in, there’s a smug expression on her face and maybe it’s because she has something to do with this photoshoot/ interview but it won’t change a single thing. Maybe this is what others call a large or big gesture to get back what you lost.
My eyes watch Enrique as he sheds his t-shirt and the rest of his clothes leaving only his boxers on. He’s determined to not acknowledge that either one of us are in the room and that’s fine by me but it doesn’t change the fact that his body looks even more defined than it did a month ago. His abs, biceps, shoulders, even his legs. He has the outdoorsy body type now more, it works for him.
A sensation rides up my spine as the thought of touching him pops up in my mind intruding and it causes me to look away for a moment. I’ve never really thought about sex with Enrique past what we’re already doing but seeing him again changes these thoughts.
I can acknowledge that there is that oddness and emptiness that I once experienced when I was younger come back full force at the empty home I was staring at for the past month but in a way I should thank Enrique for prepping me on what to do once this is all said and done.
Once I’ve collected my thoughts, my eyes move to Emily who is openly watching Enrique as he gets dressed, I tilt my head wondering if I should say something since we still are married and I have to keep up the pretenses for those who are outside or could come into the dressing room any minute from now.
Standing, I move over to the mirror to take a final look at the outfit Francois suggested I go with for this. I check my makeup, make sure my hair is still maintaining the big bouncy curls it was put in. It feels weird looking at myself because I’ve never done this style before. It’s either straight or up but the stylist went with a blow out then added the bouncy curls. My hair texture is well maintained and the feeling of my hair brushing the small of my back isn’t unwelcomed.
My hands smooth out the tight leather dress that I’m shocked I can breathe in, everything is in place as my breasts sit up and are practically bursting out of the dress but not in a tacky way. The rest of the dress hugs my curves that have filled out a bit more due to my appetite picking up, my doctor says that's good even though things might change again. The split is a breath away from my bikini line, I turn a bit looking at the back of the dress which is backless all the way down to the small of my back showing off my back dimples when my hair is out of the way. Imove my hair to the side to make sure everything is good, my eyes move back to Enrique as he puts on his belt, still shirtless.
My watching moves all the way up his naked chest to his eyes that are already watching me back. Neither of us are glaring at each other, just looking instead, something I explicitly denied wanting to do and opted for kissing. Our eye contact is broken when I realize from the corner of my eye that Emily is still lost in Enrique’s presence.
Knowing what I have to do, I walk to where Enrique is, placing a hand on his abdomen because one, my hand has a mind of its own and two, so Emily can remember where we all are.
“Is this what you do as a professional? Openly stare at my husband as he’s getting dressed?” I know my tone, it’s frigid and direct.
Emily opens her mouth to respond but nothing comes out. She clears her throat as if to say something but luckily, Francois walking in, saves her from whatever she was going to say.
“Are you ready, Darl–.” He stops talking and whistles, shaking his head. “I knew this would fucking work for you. We’re ready for you both,allons-y, ma cherie.”