His Loving Eyes [18+]

47

I'm staring at the ceiling, my mind a labyrinth of conflicting emotions, when my phone starts buzzing. Instinctively, I put it on silent to avoid waking Evelina, who is still sleeping peacefully beside me. Glancing at the caller ID, I see it's my assistant. I told her not to contact me during my break unless it's urgent. And right now, I'm in no mood to handle work.

The woman I love told me that marrying me was the biggest mistake of her life.

"An emotionless, spoiled fuck boy."

Her words are like a thousand knives piercing my chest, leaving wounds that refuse to heal. I thought she saw the real me, understood that I am far from emotionless.

I understand her frustrations though, feeling trapped in a marriage that brought her nothing but pain. I make a quick mental list of the things she's had to endure:

Constant body-shaming by tabloids, always compared to my ex.Forced to have dinner with the man who sexually assaulted her.Attacked by a psychopath in a cemetery.

The guilt overtakes me. I should have just given her the store without the condition of marriage. She would be happier, and I wouldn't be heartbroken. Yet here I am, grappling with the consequences of persuading her that marrying me was a good idea.

My phone vibrates again, this time with a text from Jack.

Jack: "Just wanted to let you know that Heartstrong suffered a massive stroke. He's in surgery now, and the doctors don't think he'll make it. I've called for an emergency board meeting. Will keep you updated."

Heartstrong. I've known him since elementary school. I respected him as a businessman until Evelina revealed how he exploited her. I fantasized about exacting revenge on him countless times. Ironically, it seems I don't have to lift a finger.

I throw my phone onto the table, generating a loud thud. Evelina stirs but doesn't wake. Relief mingles with bitterness. How strange it feels to wake up without her in my arms. Each morning, I would wake earlier just to kiss her forehead, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips before leaving for work. On weekends, it was different. I cherished those moments, trailing kisses down her body, eliciting sleepy murmurs and gentle touches as she woke beneath my lips.

I sigh deeply, stand up, and carefully gather the blanket and pillow from the sofa, placing them beside her on the bed. My eyes linger on her serene features for a few precious moments before I turn to grab an outfit from the closet. I need to prepare for the day, despite the emotional storm within me.

After a quick shower and a trim of my beard, I dress and step quietly out of the bedroom, phone in hand. I pause at the door, giving Evelina one last look, promising myself to check on her later, even if our relationship feels like it's hanging by a thread. Exiting as quietly as possible, I'm met by the meticulous stillness of the house. The fresh paint smell greets me, hinting at new beginnings, though I can't recall Evelina mentioning any renovations.