MR. MORENO'S SURROGATE ✔️

26 - Elijah

I'd be lying if I said what she did didn't strike a nerve. In fact it made me lose my temper. Did I think I was capable of that? Reacting the way I did because of the situation? No, I didn't. I didn't think I cared that much about her to react like that, but once again, I've proven myself wrong. I don't think I'm wrong for what I did. I told her to stay away from him or else I'd kill him. She didn't follow my orders, so I fell through with what I promised. She's married to me. She belongs to me. Not Tyler.

I might've taken it too far, but she has to know that being my wife means you don't disobey. Ever. She has to know how serious I am about this marriage. About her, whether I'd like to admit it or not.

"I'm sending an address. Clean that shit until it's spotless. I don't want to see a speck of blood anywhere. Now do your job, get rid of his fucking body, and you'll see your money afterwards." I say angrily, then I hang up the phone, rubbing my forehead.

I've got a fucking migrane. I dig in my desk for an aspirin, and I take one, swallowing it down with water. After that, I head downstairs to the kitchen to grab something to eat. Leilah hasn't been out of her bedroom for hours, but I don't think I blame her. But she shouldn't have gone against my word. This is what she gets.

When I finish my food, I head upstairs to her bedroom door and I knock on it. "Leilah." I call out, listening for an answer, but I don't get one. I knock I again, saying her name louder.

"Get the hell away from my door." she says, sounding like she's been crying.

"Can you just open the goddamn door?" I ask forcibly. When I don't get a response, I sigh in frustration. "Listen, I don't have the patience for your attitude. Can you at least come downstairs and eat something?"

"Since fucking when do you care about anyone but your goddamn self, you selfish dick!" she yells.

"Open the fucking door, Leilah." I command, on my last straw.

After ten seconds of silence, I see the door handle jiggling. It twists, and the door opens. As soon as she appears, she cocks her hand back and slaps me in the face, her eyes bloodshot from all the crying she's been doing. I stand there processing it, and then without blinking, I grab her wrists, forcing her back into her room and pinning her onto her mattress.

"Don't ever put your goddamn hands on me again." I say, nothing but anger in my stare.

"Fuck you!" she yells, kicking and trying to fight me off. Eventually she gets out of my grip and she slaps me again, punching at my chest as she rises to her feet, forcing me into a corner as she beats on my chest, screaming 'fuck you' over and over again.

I let her throw her little tantrum until she gets so tired, she falls onto my chest, sobbing. I can feel her arms wrap around me as she cries and a wave of confusion hits me. If she's so angry at me, why is she looking for comfort in me? She cries uncontrollably, hyperventilating and breathing heavy as my shirt sticks to me, her tears the glue.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, Elijah, I'm so, so sorry." she says, hugging me as her tears continue to fall. "I hate that you make me feel like this. I fucking hate you for it. For putting me through this. But I can't help but want to be with you and I fucking hate it." she says, still crying on me.

I hesitantly wrap my arms around her and I hug her back. I put my head on top of hers, hugging her just as tight as she's holding me. I don't know why I feel the urge to do this. My body just can't help it. I can't help it.