Arabella's and Hardin's story continues....
After almost three years of blissful marriage, and reigning as King and Queen, our star crossed lovers can't find a single fault in their perfection of a life.
Then, it gets even better with a special deli...
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A thunderous sort of anger shook me, fuelled by primal jealously at seeing my friend and wife so close to one another. I clenched my eyes shut for a moment, and let out a shuddering breath.
"Hardin," My Queen squeaked, jolting back in her seat. I noticed the heavy distance she placed between herself and Elliot. Surely that had to mean something?
"What's going on?" I repeated, more calmly this time. Elliot was suspiciously silent, his eyes trained on me like I was some sort of freak beast bound to attack him at any moment.
"We were just talking."
"About?" I snapped, bawling my fists tightly. No, I couldn't let my anger get the better of me.
It was strange, these new found feelings of mine. My jealously usually always acted out occasionally, but it was softer than this. I felt a need to claim my wife as mine but now, I didn't just want to claim her, but I wanted to ravage her soul, brand her with my scent and kill any man who so much as dared at look at her.
Fuck, I was sounding like one of those werewolves in those smutty romance novels Arabella always reads.
"I have a son." Elliot suddenly spoke up. I stilled and cocked my head in confusion. A son?
"What does that have to do this my wife?" He seemed startled, like he was expecting compassion, which he would receive eventually but right now I was fuelled with the need to clear up my doubts and insecurities about them together. I needed someone to say you don't have to worry, aloud.
"I was confiding in her, she's my friend."
"Hardin, I don't know what you saw or heard but we really were just talking. You trust us, right? You know we would never hurt you like that."
I know she wouldn't. However, a man in love was capable of anything.
I kept my stare steady on Elliot, watching as he shifted uncomfortably under my strong gaze. Then slowly, I moved across the room, never once ceasing eye contact and slung my arm around my wife's waist, drawing her in close.
The smell of her lavender shampoo filled the air, settling my frantic and angst state of mind. Tilting her head to the side, I lowered my lips to hers, slowly but deliberately torturing her with my kiss. She acted unresponsive but then eventually kissed me back, pulling away as she realised Elliot stood before us, watching.
Maybe now he got the clue to back off?
"Come on." I murmured, slowly leading her back into our room. The glance back she gave to Elliot wasn't lost on me, and I realised that this conversation needed to be had. Now.
Slamming the door shut, with a force that would be sure to wake Dr Harriet, I watched my wife cringe. There was a lengthy distance between us, distance that I feel we needed to have.
