𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞

Chapter Forty-Five

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"Thank you for coming back," Imani whispered, her eyes closed while rubbing her nose over his. She breathed softly, feeling content when Matthew wound his arms around her waist. She felt as if they were the only people in the world.

"I had to come back," Matthew responded, stroking her back.

"You know what I mean," she chuckled shyly, trying to get closer to him even though there was no more space.

"Do I?"

"Yes."

"No, I don't." he insisted, moving her face gently so he could see her eyes. "You must have known I'll be back. This is my main office."

She nodded and added, "but that is not what I mean."

His brows shot up in confusion, and Imani wondered whether he was faking it.

"You just want me to say it," she muttered under her breath, peering at him in annoyance.

"I swear I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about coming back sooner and not staying away for longer because we both know you could have done that. I'm saying I like that you sent for me after what transpired the last time we were together—I hated every moment you were away because I couldn't see you, but worse is that we couldn't talk. I missed you so much."

He didn't say anything at first; he sat there looking at her with the eyes of a man enthralled by his woman.

"I'm glad to be back. But you know we have to talk, don't you?" he asked softly; she nodded, touching the buttons of his shirt. Imani knew it would happen when he sent for her; Matthew wouldn't accept anything else other than her surrender.

"I know," her voice trembled when she said it. Neither of them wanted to start the conversation, or maybe they didn't want to cut off their reunion too first, knowing the moment they started on the elephant in the room, there would be more than anger; spite would reign supreme.

Imani slowly opened the first two buttons of his shirt and then pressed her lips gently on him. Matthew's breath caught, and his hands trembled a little. She did this to him way too often, using her body to soften him, like she was doing. She didn't have to say anything for Matthew to know what she was about to say. It was happening again, and he blamed himself this time.

He could have stayed away or respected her first decision, but his arrogance—the audacity to think she would change her mind after some time. He laughed mirthlessly at himself, slowly lifting her off his lap to sit her on the couch next to him, and then stood up.

He didn't know exactly how he felt other than one single thing; he loved her still.

Imani wrapped her arms around herself as if it was cold, watching him pace around his office with hands in his pocket. He looked aloof; ironically, he'd accused her of the same a few minutes ago.

"Matthew," she called. Her voice was stable, and he knew she would never change her decision. She was sure he wasn't the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

"Tell me why?" he sounded resigned, a man who knew no amount of begging or reassuring would ever change her mind.

"You know why?"

"He burst into a laugh," a short, unhappy sound that broke her heart repeatedly.

"Yes, my money. That is shallow."

"Don't do that," she warned, determined not to let him make her feel bad about her decision. Matthew heard the harsh tone—the resignation and wondered again why he had thought she would change her mind, yet he needed her to say the words, perhaps for closure or so that when he recalls this conversation, he will know, without a doubt, the reason she left him.