Chapter 6

Ares

Rolling up my black sleeves after changing after a day of work, I look at myself in the foot-length mirror in our bedroom. I chose to wear an all-black outfit, as always, with my silver watch on my right wrist and my tattoos decorating my neck and hands. My appearance is never something I bother about. Black is easy to wear when you have blood on your hands.

Simple, effective, practical.

Yet, tonight I wanna make sure I look good.

It’s our first time hosting together since the wedding, and I wanna see her eyes light up like yesterday when I stroked her soft skin and almost had to punch a wall not to devour her.

When she told me she needed a place to meet clients, I bit back my grin ‘cause it felt good to know I had anticipated her needs. Providing for her feels like winning a fight after three rounds when you have nothing more left in you, but still, you get to show off your winning belt to your girl at the end.

Mia stayed in our bed last night. It felt good to have her body melting against mine all night, even though she didn’t realize she did it instinctively. As if she was looking for shelter during a storm. I kept her close, rubbing her back in slow circles and murmuring reassuring words I didn’t know I had in me when she shivered a few times. We hadn't talked about it this morning when I left for work, but something is changing in the air, and I can’t put my finger on it.

She’s still getting ready in our bathroom, the two sliding doors shut, leaving me with nothing but my dark and twisted imagination as a relief.Taking a look at my watch, I notice my sister and her husband are about to arrive.

“Mia, get in here. We’re gonna be late!” I shout.

“Not ready yet! I’ll be there when I’m done!” she shouts back, singing to the sound of trashy pop music she’s been blasting for an hour in here already. I look around and rub my forehead. Our room is a fucking mess. Books, knitting stuff and pencils are on the floor like she couldn’t decide what activity to do and chose all of them. There’s clothes everywhere, and I mean every-fucking-where. High heels spread on the floor, pearl necklaces on the back of the chair, her lipsticks are even on my bedside table and her colourful fucking tiny panties are thrown on the bed like confetti. Clenching my jaw at the chaos around me and the thought of her in those lacy things have me wanting to roar and straddle my bike just to blow off steam.

Don’t let her get under your skin.

I walk to the door, ready to go down without her. “And fold your fucking clothes, damn it !” I shout.

“You fold them!” She giggles.

Giggles.

FUCK. MY. LIFE.

Pinching the bridge of my nose in an attempt to gather myself, I notice a red dress in her dresser. Getting closer, I look at it. Thin straps, low cut, knee length. She’d look like a fucking bombshell in it, and I’d give anything to see that. Taking it from the hanger, I spread it in the middle of the bed, then walk to the sliding doors.

Maria is already in the entryway, opening the door for my sister Vanessa and Scott. I decided to host this during our conversation yesterday. I didn’t like knowing she felt lonely. So I called Vanessa and told her to come tonight. It’s not like me to be spontaneous, but, well, thought she might like it.

“Hey,” my sister says with a large smile as she steps inside the entryway with pictures of the club on both sides. Her short, blonde hair and navy dress look like she’s coming from a lawyer sitcom. Her husband, Scott, is behind her. The guy’s so tall, he’s almost twice her size. I hug my sister quickly and then shake Scott’s hand firmly.

“Nice to see you guys,” I rasp, and Scott nods back. He’s always been quiet compared to my talkative sister. I wonder how he keeps his calm, but they always seem good together, so I guess that’s none of my business. He makes her happy. That’s all that matters to me. Took him out of jail when he got himself involved in shitty business two years ago. I’d never seen my sister in such a crazy state. Thought she was about to rip my face off if I didn’t help her. We worked with him from time to time, but he’s more involved with classic gun trafficking, whereas the Raven Sons are expanding more on the drug aspect of the business. Vanessa never turned a blind eye to his activities and mine. She was raised by the devil himself, so she knows what’s what. Just as we’re about to step inside the main living room, I notice another silhouette behind them.

Who the fuck is this?

I told Vanessa it was a small gathering and still, she overstepped. She’s lucky she can always get away with anything since she’s my sister, but damn, I hate unplanned stuff.

“Hello,” a sultry voice echoes as I look at a tall brunette wearing a shiny green dress with a pretty good face and body. I know enough to see she’s hot to the average guy, but to me, she’s just another chick I could mix up with any other girl from the club. Lifting a brow at my sister, she answers me with a shrug and an innocent smile.

“Carolina wanted to go out, but you had already invited us, so I thought, why not have some fun all together!” my sister says as I recall the name from being one of her art colleagues. I know her too well to know what she’s up to. She wasn’t there for the wedding because of some work thing, so she hasn't seen Mia yet. She knows Mia and I had an arranged marriage, and she just wants to help me in her own way by sending one of her good looking friends my way, thinking I would find some satisfaction in it.

I get that’s a nice gesture, but for some reason, it doesn’t sit right with me to know that Mia’s going to have to spend the evening with her around.

Becoming sentimental?

I’m not a nice guy. Never been, never will be. Feelings aren’t something I’m accustomed to. It's more of a tool, a way to read people and make them do what I want. Unless they’re family like Vanessa or Vox, I never really give a shit about other folks. So I don’t know why Mia is churning so much in my mind.

Mia is your wife.

Perhaps I should have another woman just to get her out of my head.

You like her more than you want to admit.

Maybe I should just let her sleep in the guest bedroom every night.

Touching her feels like breathing again after being drowned.

Let’s see how tonight goes and I’ll plan accordingly.

You’re already in deep with her and you know it.

Vanessa is watching me with her don’t-be-a-dick look, so I glance at her friend. “Hi. Right. Nice to meet ya,” I grunt roughly, clenching my jaw at the thought of Mia’s reaction when she will come down. She’s a smart girl. She’ll see right through it. And knowing my little tornado, I don’t think I can anticipate what’s about to happen.

The girl looks at me like I’m a fucking dessert, which would have been alright with me a few months ago before having Mia here, but fuck, I want to show her the way out now. She’s hot and all, but it does nothing for me. Turning back to my sister who’s wearing a knowing smile as if she was witnessing some sort of love at first sight, which she fucking isn’t, I try to change the topic.

“How’s the gallery? Any new exciting stuff around?” I ask her as we walk to the living room with a pretty good food spread and wine glasses already prepared for us. I nod at Maria, who’s putting away the coats. It’s important to reward good staff. I’ll make sure to add a bonus to her check at the end of the month.

“Yes! A local artist is perhaps thinking about coming over and giving us a few pieces to showcase, it’s really exciting,” she says, clapping her hands, as I watch Scott looking at her like she’s a living treasure.

“Tell him about the sale, babe,” he mutters, lifting his chest proudly next to his wife. We all get served as Carolina stands way too fucking close to me, and Vanessa turns herself to talk to us, her eyes in the direction of the entryway.

“Oh yeah, the sale. It was amazing. You know, the newspaper Hurray, the one where—” Her voice stops as if someone has electrocuted her, her gaze staring at something between Scott and me.

I don’t even need to turn to know what’s struck her.

I already know it.

That’s Mia’s effect on basically anyone with goddam eyes.

“Wow,” she murmurs.

Turning to my wife, I swallow a grin, biting my inner cheek as I drink in every single inch of her.

Damn.

Walking with her blood dress on, her fiery hair on the side, and crimson lips making me want to devour her, I stare at my wife as she meanders to us with more charisma and class than a queen would, giving us the brightest smile I’ve ever seen on her.

“Hi, sorry, sorry. I was just finishing my makeup,” she chants with warmth, making everyone fall for her charms right away. “You must be Vanessa. It’s so nice to meet you.” She hugs my sister, whose jaw is still on the floor.

“Mia, that’s my sister and her husband, Scott, and that’s, um….” I trail off, motioning my hand to them.

Fuck, I forgot her name.

“Carolina,” the brunette repeats with a frozen grin, shaking Mia’s hand as I watch them silently assess each other. I’ve never seen a woman play territorial on me, but I gotta say, I don't hate it.

“Yeah, Carolina, right. She’s a colleague of Vaness’.” I give her the heads-up.

“Lovely to meet you. Looove the dress,” Mia says a little too nicely to sound honest.

“Thanks, it’s Couture. I bought it in Paris when I visited it last year with Nessa .” I reach my hand to my wife and rest it on the small of her back, ‘cause I won’t let another single minute pass without touching her. She jerks slightly at my touch but doesn’t push me away, letting my palm rest on her body while Carolina's gaze sends daggers in her eyes. Pretty sure Vanessa told her I was available.

Perhaps this could be fun.

Like I said, I like my women feisty, and watching Mia acting all possessive is going to be the end of me.

Arm's length, remember?

“So, Mia, I didn’t get to meet you at the wedding,” says Vanessa after getting herself back together. “How, um, how are you settling in?” I know she wants to know how we’re doing as a new couple, but fuck, I don’t even know myself. It took us two months to even sleep in the same bed, so I'd say we’re progressing? I observe my wife placating her face with a professional and controlled smile.

“I’m good. Ares has been, um, making sure I have everything I need. So yeah, pretty great.” Hearing her talk about me providing for her shouldn’t make my chest swell this much, and yet, it fucking does.

“Oh wow, I didn’t know my brother could be so thoughtful.” Vanessa nods, raising her brows.

“You’re not from here, right?” Carolina’s voice cuts the air as I watch her brown gaze burn into Mia’s.

What the fuck is wrong with her?

“I’m from Chicago,” Mia states, chin up from talking about her hometown.

“That’s far,” the brunette remarks.

“Eight hours away. I got there last month for business. The drive fuckin’ took forever,” grunts Scott.

“Yeah, that’s pretty far, but my sister will visit me as much as she can, so that’s still okay.” Mia explains with a hint of sadness I know I’m the only one to see.

“So, you don’t know anyone here. It must be difficult,” Caroline answers her as if the ring of the bell had rung.

“I’m not worried. I’m really good at making friends. I’m sure I’ll meet new people soon,” Mia replies with a gentle, genuine smile.

“I’m still working on settling up a team to guard Mia, but it should be done soon for her to go out safely.” I rescue my wife before this fucking woman who’s getting on my nerves pushes her too far.

My wife.

Yeah, not my fake bride, not any chick, my wife.

I promised myself not to fall for Mia, but fuck, it’s getting harder and harder as I watch her strength and classy manners on display.

A fucking queen.

“Yes, exactly. Once I get security, I'll be able to meet clients and go out more.” She locks her hazelnut eyes with mine for a second.

“What is it that you do, Mia?” asks Vanessa, and I’m glad for it.

“I’m a personal fashion consultant. It sounds fancy and all, but it’s really not.” She chuckles. “I basically choose outfits for wealthy people who don’t have the time to.” She shrugs her shoulders.

“Actually, Mia’s just graduated in historical fashion at University.” The words slip out of my mouth before I register them.

Since when have I become a proud husband too?

What’s going on with me?

“Oh, then you’ll be my next shopping buddy!” Vanessa grins, making the atmosphere less tense.

“I would love to,” answers Mia, and I’m glad to see the both of them getting along already. We finish the rest of the Champagne before Maria walks to me.

“Diner is ready, sir,” she murmurs discreetly before disappearing into the dining room I had redone before Mia arrived to make it look more, how could I say, homey?

Looking at my breathtaking, smart mouth, spiritual, knockout of a wife, I clench my jaw, remembering what I had requested of Larry tonight.

Shit, I should stop this, it was a fucking bad idea.

I wanted to test her after she called me a jerk yesterday, and now, looking at her, I wanna punch myself for it.

What have I done?

Mia

First crisis averted.

I got away with the wine and the large amount of small finger foods Larry, the cook, got ready for us. I just took one cherry tomato to not look like I didn’t eat anything but the worst is yet to come.

Clean food only.

Remember, Mia.

Follow the list.

I was eager to meet new people but I’m quickly realizing the evening is about to be as challenging as a cage fight. On one hand, I’ve got this stunning tall brunette looking at Ares like a mortal to gods, practically drooling over him. Which I can’t really blame her for since he’s indeed looking fine as hell.

And on the other hand, there is this large amount of food I’m absolutely not ready to eat, which is already making me sweat at the idea of having to find an excuse to hide and have my panic attack in peace, preferably in the empty bathtub upstairs.

Awesome, I know.

“Wow, that’s beautiful. Did you decorate it yourself?” asks the brunette, looking over the art on the walls and the massive metallic chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Ares chose to go the rustic way with this place: wood carvings, vintage photographs with the addition of modern high-hand furniture and beige velvet curtains on every window. It screams taste, comfort, and authenticity.

Just like him.

“Yeah, got a bit of help but I did most of it myself,” he says dryly. I’m glad he rested his hand on me a few minutes ago as if he was showing them we were a team and not two strangers stuck in an arranged marriage. The brunette is stunning, and even if he hasn’t been looking at her for now, I’m not sure how I’d feel about them playing cat and mouse in front of me.

Don’t get attached. This isn’t a real marriage.

He’ll never give you the love you’re searching for.

We all get seated, Vanessa and her friend on one side, Scott and I on the other, with Ares at the head of the table. Carolina is right in front of me, Ares being the only person between both of us. If I sense her foot moving toward him under the table, I’m going to see red.

No, you’re not.

Ares is an asshole. Let them play if they want to.

This doesn’t affect you.

Vanessa is still talking to her friend while Maria hurries around us. Scott’s looking quickly at his phone while Ares’s gaze burns into me, but I ignore it.

I don’t even notice how he keeps trying to squeeze my thigh under the table.

I don’t notice it at all.

I stick my legs together roughly to shove him away because why the hell is he becoming so touchy all of a sudden? I cross my fingers, hoping nobody will notice how flushed I am after his possessive touches.

Damn you, Ares.

His hands are like liquid lava on my skin.

A low growl comes out of him as if he’s mad being denied. “So, Carolina, are you still living in Knoxville?” he says with way too much charm for him to sound genuine. I’m sure as hell his sister got it too. She sounds really nice, and I wonder how she puts up with him. But then again, her husband looks like a secret agent who barely speaks, so I guess that’s her jam. The brunette lightens up instantly at Ares’s question as if his interest was all she had been waiting for.

“My family is from Kingsport, but I moved here a long time ago for work.” She glances with a smile at Vanessa. “It’s nice being around people I love, you know, to think about building a stable future, family and such.” There are stars in her eyes, as if Ares was the foundation of her five-year plan on her dream moodboard. I lean my head to the side, staring at her, observing how she dares bat her eyelashes at him.

The girl must be around thirty, or early thirties, so a bit older than my twenty-three -years-old ass, which would technically make her a more logical choice for Ares, who’s thirty-two. But somehow, the idea of them together rubs me the wrong way.

He’s not a real husband, Mia. Don’t get confused by the huge emerald on your finger.

“Yeah I see. Nice to know you’re gonna stick around,” Ares says, grinning wickedly, then glancing at me with daring side eyes.

“Um, yeah,” Caroline purrs with delight.

What game is he playing?

Is he trying to make me jealous, or does he get off on flirting with her in front of me?

I choose to take the high road and not react, keeping my gaze as cool as I can.

He wants her? He can have her.

I. Do. Not. Care.

The first meal is a light salad with a few pieces of duck I manage to push aside and kind of hide under a piece of bread on my plate. Not the most classy behavior, but the name of the game is to survive, not thrive. The salad is fine because the dressing is on the side, so I don’t have to force myself to eat it.

Green leaves are safe. It’s on the list.

Each time I take a bite, I notice Ares glancing at me like he’s waiting for me to burst or something.

What is he up to?

Vanessa is talking about a big sale at work she had to organize with paintings and sculptures coming from all over the world. I like that she's into creative things like me, even though she looks way more like an organized queen with her sleek blonde bob and fancy navy corporate dress. She’s quite nice, and I think we are going to get along just fine.

“It took five hours, I swear. The guy didn’t want us to touch his work. We had to wait for him.” She rolls her green eyes dramatically, the same shade as Ares’s in them. “Artists are no joke, you guys. Sometimes I wonder if compared to you,” she addresses Ares and Scott, “we’re not the ones dealing with crazy people.” She laughs.

“Nah, babe, I wouldn’t want you near our folks. You keep your artists just fine.” Scott grins with a tender look at his wife.

Damn, they are cute.

“Mia, would you like to come to our next exhibition in two months? I got this amazing new sculptrice. She makes wonders with clay. It’s really worth it!” Vanessa says with excitement.

In two months?

Would I still be there, or would I have indulged in the fantasy of escaping?

I feel shitty making false promises to her. She seems so nice, but I can’t reveal my doubts, so I go with my guts.

“I’d love to. We could go clubbing after.” I push further just to see how my fake husband will react. He did flirt with another woman in front of me. Wouldn’t be fair not to fight back.

You’re playing with fire.

The atmosphere shifts as Vanessa’s laugh fills the room.

“Clubbing? Have you met Scott?” She giggles, then elbows her husband lightly in the ribs. “If I want to go clubbing, I will end up dancing by myself with no one around because he will privatize the club so no other men can come near me.” Scott nods in silence next to her, his jaw flexing at the sound of his wife explaining their dynamics.

“As he should,” growls Ares, his hand turning into a fist on the table.

Cavemen.

“I’d looove to go with you, Mia. Since I’m working with Nessa , I’ll be there too,” Caroline says with a dripping honey voice that makes me want to slap her in the face. Her eyes say it all.

No, she does not give a damn about coming to a club with me.

All she wants is a bit of private time with Ares to work her charms.

I want to roll my eyes so bad it hurts. This girl is feral. Anyone with eyes can see her game is crystal clear.

“Veal stew with young vegetables from the garden fried in pork grease, as you requested, sir,” declares Maria as she serves the plate to each of us.

HE requested this?

“Thank you,” says Ares, his jaw ticking twice.

I look down at my plate with a frozen smile, my fingers already starting to tingle.

Take your time, Mia. It’s just food.

It’s just a plate with different colors and textures. Don’t focus on the calories. Don’t focus on the freshness. It’s healthy. It was homemade here. You’re not going to poison yourself. You’ll eat clean tomorrow, and it will make it up for all this sauce and oil.

It's just food.

It's just food.

It's just food.

It's just f-

“Earth to Mia.” Vanessa chuckles. "You okay, hun?”

“Yeah, I got distracted.” I shake my head, then place my fake smile back on. “What were you saying ?”

“That you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She smiles at me with a genuine soft look while Ares' gaze is snipping at me from my left side.

He knows something’s up.

And just like that, I know instantly that the sexy brunette in front of me won't be the reason my night will be ruined. It's the brown mixture staring at me, the oily vegetables and the wine being poured in my glass that will. I shake my head in response, like it’s no big deal I’m about to take a bite of what looks like the end of the world to me.

“Forgot to tell you I got myself a new ride,” tells Scott to Ares, making me glad for the change of topic.

“Nice, which one? Kawasaki? Harley?” asks Ares. The guys keep talking about motorcycles as I stare at my plate. Their conversation is still going strong while wine gets poured once again into our glasses, my stomach making a double spin at the idea of drinking even a drop of alcohol. I keep a light smile on my face. Unbothered, at peace, when I’m in fact anything but. The waves of the storm are approaching me faster than a lightning bolt. A warm hand drifts to my thigh before squeezing it once like a reassuring gesture.

Ares.

His attention and words are still angled toward Scott, but I sense his body is focused solely on me. As if he is aware of my every thought and feeling. As if he can read me like a book.

This time, I don’t push him away.

Instead, I embrace his grip, holding me firm to the earth, temporarily pushing the waves away from the shores of my broken mind. I bet any other woman would interpret this touch as a sensual attempt to bring me into his net, but somehow, I know this has nothing to do with seduction and everything to do with rescuing me from the desperation he reads on my face.

A light chuckle cuts through my thoughts as Carolina stares at me with a wicked grin. “You don’t like veal, honey?” Her voice is dripping with disdain while she takes a bite of meat and licks the brown sauce of her lower lips like a lollipop. I don’t miss the fact that Ares doesn’t give her any attention, even if she’s barely hiding the fact that she just licked her lips in front of him.

Stay above it, Mia.

“I do, but it’s not my favorite. I’m more of a sushi kind of gal,” I answer dryly. Scott and Ares have stopped their banter, the whole table focused on Carolina and I. My husband's hand is still holding the silk above my skin, creating goosebumps all over me.

“Ooh, I see. You’re scared of eating sauce and oil? Afraid you won’t fit in your summer bikini, right girl?” I would laugh if I wasn’t gobsmacked by her audacity. First of all, I believe she just called me fat, and second of all, the whole besties talk isn’t working for her. This girl is trying too hard, and I think I’m going to have to show her why I was always at the top of the food chain in high school.

“Nope, I can eat whatever. I'll stay fit. But you should be careful, honey ,” I say, cocking my head with a smile, “oil goes directly to the ass.”

Her eyes widen at my answer while Ares’s hold grips me tighter. And because I’m absolutely not going to let that bimbo walk all over me, I take my fork, stick it into the oily vegetable and eat it.

Fuck my eating disorder.

Fuck her.

The moment the food touches my tongue, I know I’ve made a huge mistake and I regret it instantly.

Instantly.

Ares

Jesus fucking Christ.

I saw her distress the moment Maria put the plate in front of her. I could have stopped this, asked for Larry to fix her something quickly, but I didn’t ‘cause I’m a fucking asshole who needed to see her reaction to understand it wasn’t a one-time thing at our wedding. There’s no way to explain how gut wrenching it was to look at her doll-shaped face filled with terror, hidden behind a perfect mask. And on top of that, I had to behave like a jerk with Vanessa’s friend in front of her ‘cause I hated when she pushed my hand away earlier.

I’m the fucking worst.

It was hard enough to look at her walk to us in her stunning red dress without grabbing her nape and crushing my mouth on her. I needed to touch her at some point but her rejection made me see red.

Fucking red.

Blood and flesh and cuts kind of red.

So, I used the only weapon I had on hand and flirted with Carolina. Which wasn’t for nothing ‘cause damn, the look on Mia’s face was priceless. Turns out my little tornado is exactly as feisty as I thought. And fuck, if watching her defend her territory wasn’t a turn-on. She shut the brunette’s mouth so quickly, I’d almost laughed if it wasn’t for the look of horror she had painted on her.

I fucked up. I really, really fucked up.

Mia is chewing her bite silently, as if nothing massive is currently happening, when, in fact, I see her cinnamon eyes getting all glassy, and the hand resting on her lap is now shaking uncontrollably. I glance at her, so fucking proud she’s the kind of woman who would rather die than admit weaknesses in front of an opponent.

That’s my kind of woman.

Strong, stubborn, unapologetic.

“Vaness’, can you show Carolina the garden?” Despite her being two years older than me, I’ve always been the big brother, and becoming the President of the Raven Sons only reinforced it. We know each other; we trust each other. So when I ask her to do something for me, which is rare ‘cause that’s mostly the other way around, she does it. No questions asked.

“Sure, yeah.” I eat another bite while I keep staring at her.

“Oh, you mean now?” She glances at Mia, then me.

“Yes, now.” My tone is heavy. I want to protect Mia from getting unwanted attention.

“Okay, yeah. C’mon girl, I’ll show you. It’s cute as hell,” Vanessa says with a high-pitched tone revealing her discomfort, but I don’t care. I just need them gone. The brunette checks me out quickly with furrowed brows, but I ignore it. Don’t give a shit about her. My only priority is right next to me. Since when?

“We’ll be right back,” I say to Scott, who nods back, sipping his wine. He won’t ask any questions because he knows better than to dig his nose in my business, but also because it’s in his nature to be private and stay out of people’s lives.

“C’mon,” I grunt to Mia, grabbing her wrist and dragging her out of the room toward the staircase.

“Ar-Ares, I can’t—” she mutters, her voice dropping twenty levels of shyness below the confident facade she had a minute ago. Clinging to my arm like a life jacket, I notice she can barely stand on her feet.

Shit.

Lowering down to her level, I swoop her up in no time, her little body weighing as much as a feather in my arms. So fucking tiny. So fucking perfect.

Don’t get ahead of yourself.

My heart skips a bit as I realize she’s hyperventilating, her cheeks flushed with a crimson shade and her shoulders trembling in my hold. Carrying her in my arms up the stairs as fast as I can, I rush to our bedroom, shove the door open with my black leather boot, and get us in the bathroom.

I want to put her in the bath ‘cause maybe that will calm her, but her little voice interrupts my thoughts as I’m standing in the room with her in my arms.

“Fl-Floor, floor,” she whispers in an exhale.

I do as she says and kneel, resting her body on my lap while I keep my arms under her back and knees, the fabric of her red dress sliding up her thighs at the motion. Her watery eyes turn into a full waterfall, drenching my shirt like I just took a shower with my clothes on.

I’ve never done this. Not even when Vaness’ had the flu back then.

I’m on the floor of our white marble bathroom, holding my trembling wife in my arms and I honestly think she might break if I move.

Should I call a doctor? Give her a cold shower? Talk to her? Call her sister? Ask Maria to bring her a glass of water? Leave her alone?

For the first time since I lost my father, I can admit without a doubt that I don’t know what to do next.

Mia

The oil spreads in my guts like poison, shutting down my lungs and my logic. A storm is raging in my mind, and I feel like the passenger of a boat that’s leaving me in the sea after someone pushed me overboard.

I’m right here, please.

I need help.

Don’t let me die here.

Only the sea is raging and I have no more energy to swim. The waves keep crashing into me each time my head gets above water. Maybe I’m crying, I’m not sure, but something is dripping from my jaw.

“Fuck, Mia,” Ares’s says with an urgency I have never heard before, pulling back the wet hair that is sticking to my face. “You okay?”

Focus on his voice. Push the water away.

“It’s–I’m okay, I’m okay,” I mutter, gasping for air, my fingers pinching my shoulders so hard I’m afraid I’ll cut myself with my sharp nails. His large palm takes my hand in his, squeezing it hard.

“No, you’re not. Fuck, you’re not okay, Mia.” His worried tone sends a slight flash of warmth inside my dying body. I’m too out to see what he’s doing exactly, but I sense his arms shifting me, and all of a sudden, I’m on his lap, straddling him, his arms around me, pulling me close to his chest, my head on his shoulder as I feel his heartbeat pound as hard as mine against my ribcage.

“I’m gonna die,” I whisper into his shoulder, the air closing down on me as I picture the oil spreading all over my throat, blocking the oxygen from coming in. Black and white spots pound in my eyes, hopelessness sinking its claws deep into my mind.

I’m going to die right here, right now, without saying goodbye to my sister.

I’m going to drown in front of him and there’s nothing he can do.

There’s nothing anyone can do.

The poison is running inside me at the speed of a horse on a racing track, making my skin itch everywhere. My senses betray me as I picture mold growing inside my guts, brain, and heart.

It’s always like that, once I feel like the food is poisoning me, then I can’t stop it anymore. My brain goes on autopilot, and imagines whatever I ate turning my insides into a swamp. Lovely, I know, but that’s just the ugly truth of my messed up eating disorder.

“You’re not going to die,” he murmurs in my ear before whispering other soothing sounds people would use on children to make them fall asleep, his hand rubbing circles on my back.

“I’m right here with ya, and there’s no way I’m letting you die. Okay, princess?” I hear him, but my brain is too focused on fighting the lack of oxygen to let his words get through to me.

“It’s too late. It’s–it’s spreading,” I manage to say, attempting to warn him that he’s about to hold a dead body in a matter of minutes.

Logic, think logically, Mia.

It’s just food.

It’s just food.

It’s just food.

“Wh-what?” He shakes his head. “Whatever. You’re not dying, Mia. I’m…damn it,” he curses in front of the mess that I am, looking into my eyes, searching for the key that would set me free.

I’m grateful he’s trying.

I’m grateful someone’s here.

Someone who doesn’t laugh at me.

“Alright, wait. Let’s try something.” Kissing my forehead roughly, his lips bring me back to our wedding day. “Picture a place, a happy place, somewhere you feel good.” He strokes my cheek with his rough thumb. My breathing is still going strong, and I struggle to hear him despite his attempts. “I don’t know. A beach, a park, whatever the fuck makes you feel good.”

I choke on my saliva, feeling green mold expand inside me so fast, I know there’s not much time left for me.

He’s wasting his time.

It’s too late.

“I c-can’t,” I murmur tears falling hard on my cheeks as I fist his black shirt so hard it tears the fabric in an irreversible way.

“No, you’re not. Fuck, stay with me, Mia. You’re gonna be okay.” His tone turns into a more commanding one, making my floating body come back to earth like an anchor grounding me.

Better, that’s better.

Listen to his voice.

Just hold onto him.

“I’m gonna breathe with ya, yeah? Deep breath, Mia. C’mon, let’s do it together.” I try my best to stay focused on him and ignore the stars shining in my vision.

Don’t let go.

Don’t let go.

Don’t let go.

“Inhale. Yeah, deep breaths, just like that,” he says, the echo of his deep voice surrounding me like a weighted blanket. “You’re doing good. Come on, once more.” I follow his command, and slowly, the storm stops raging and my body is swimming above the water. We do this five times before my hands stop shaking and my vision comes back fully. That’s when I notice how strong he’s crushing me to his chest. Like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go.

“That’s it, that’s it.” His voice hits a lower tone I didn’t know he had in him, making an army of butterflies churn in my belly for some strange reason.

He did it.

He saved me from the storm.

He stopped the poison from spreading.

I sigh loudly, biting my lower lip, my voice filled with thick tears as I let go of his shirt. His hold on me doesn’t waver, his burning gaze staring into mine. No one ever did this. All these years, I had to face it alone. Kiara only saw one or two episodes, but I always tried to protect her from this.

“Than–Thank you,” I whisper, so disappointed in myself for revealing this part of me to him. He’ll see me like this now, the weird girl afraid to die each time I eat something that isn’t on my list. A strange, broken woman. That’s all I will ever be. And it shouldn’t bother me. After all, I’m not even sure if I’ll stay here forever, but I never thought things would shift this way. That he would read my distress on my face and help me. That he knew enough to give me the privacy I needed from our guests and didn’t even laugh when I told him I was dying.

He was just here, helping me get through it.

He sighs loudly, as if he had been holding his breath the whole time. “You scared the shit out of me, Mia.” His gaze darkens, and my lips part at his admission. “Don’t ever do that again.” His threat runs over me with an undertone. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one terrified tonight. Turns out we both revealed something of ourselves this evening. We stay like this for a while, his arms protecting me from the storm, until he kisses my temple with a feather breath kiss and mutters the words I'll never forget.

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I made you go through this.”

Ares

“Wha—What do you mean?” she asks, furrowing her brows, her shivering body still snug against me.

“I…fuck. I needed to see the food thing,” I say, shaking my head. “To see if it was real.”

What did I do?

Her lips part, and a little “o” appears on them until her soft gaze turns into a dark one. “You thought I had an issue with… So you asked Larry to cook this, especially for—for me?” Anger and deception fill her stunning face as I sense her body pushing me away.

“I fucked up, I realize now. I didn’t know it would get that far.” I want to tell her that I did it for a reason. I wanted to get back at her for calling me a jerk.

No, shit, I’m fucking lying to myself.

I needed to hurt her.

There.

I fucking said it.

I needed to hurt her to see if I’d feel something watching her in pain. To see if my dark, twisted heart would twitch at the sight of her agony or if it would remain unbothered after years of loneliness.

And I got my answer.

So fucking loud and so fucking clear, I knew instantly I couldn’t spend another minute of my existence watching her in pain. I’m falling hard and fast for a tornado that’s going to tear me apart, and I’m not even appalled by it. I want to know every corner of her until there’s not a single cell of her body and mind that remains unknown to me. I want to dig into her like a surgeon, sew back her wounds, and kiss every scar she's ever had. I’m falling for my wife at a record speed, and I’m not even gonna try to deny it.

A hard slap gets me out of my thoughts, blood pulsing in my veins as I realize Mia hit me in the face. I don’t even turn my head, her strength too light to move a mountain like me. Instead, I bring her closer.

“How could you?” Tears build back into her eyes, filled with anger and disgust. My heart aches at the sight.

What heart?

“I fucked up, Mia. I’m sorry, really.”

Since when do I apologize to people?

Her palms push against my chest as she tries to stand up and escape my arms. I try to keep her close ‘cause I’m not sure I’ll ever stand the feeling of not touching her anymore, but her words break through me like daggers.

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” she says between gritted teeth. And at that instant, the floor disappears under me, watching her stand up as I’m still sat on the marble of our bathroom.

“Mia.” Standing up and walking toward her, “You gotta see a doctor.” No fucking way I’m letting my wife go without medical care after her panic attack.

She shakes her head. “I don’t need to see a doctor, Ares. What I need is to be as far away from you as I can.” Her words slap me right in the face. She turns toward our room, grabs her orange nightgown, and disappears in the hallway.

I turn on the sink, her side full of fucking makeup tubes and glitters and shit I don’t know about, and splash cold water on my face.

Fuckin’ hell.

How do you win over someone you’re already married to?