Foolishly Falling for You

29

Lance

For the first time, I wake up next to my wife. Conflicting emotions barrage me, and emotions are not my strong suit. I turn them off. I need time to think. To sort this all out. Am I just being selfish? Is this just my hatred for change? Do I just want her to love me simply because she used to and I'm used to it?
Do I want her?

I make myself scarce as I contemplate it all deeply, trying to pin down what it is exactly that's happening to me.

I run into her no matter what. It's like she's putting herself in my path. I feel a familiar irritation surge.

"Sorry," she whispers as we run into one another for the eleventh time in 45 minutes.

I clench my jaw and close my eyes. "What? What is it? Spit it out?"

Anita swallows and shakes her head. "Nothing I just—"

"You just can't handle not being in my space every moment of every day?" I snap. I immediately regret it.

Anita goes stone face. "I will get out of your way."

"Anita—"
"Don't do this to me," she says softly.
"I know. I'm sorry." I whisper. "I didn't mean to be so harsh. I just need to think."

She pulls away and leaves my presence. I clench my jaw. Why? Why do I do that? I just...get overwhelmed and say all the wrong things, make all the wrong expressions.

I let her go. Is that the right decision? To let her go while I try to figure out my feelings for her? And yet, that's all I've ever done, letting her go. For once, I need to make a different choice. My feet are moving before I can even understand what's happening. If this is love, it is dizzying and disorienting, and I don't like it. But I can't stop, as I pull her back. I expect to see tears, but there are none there.

My feelings, once vibrant and colorful have settled down to a pale shade of indifference.

Anita looks down at my hand. It is gripping hers but she is not here. My stomach turns over twice. Sickness grips me. My wife has no faith in me or my feelings.
I get down on my knees, putting her soft hand against my lips, my forehead against her legs. Anita shifts uneasily.

"What are you doing? Get up."

"I am sorry, my wife. Please forgive me. I didn't mean to speak so harshly. I do not wish to hurt you. My mouth speaks wildly when my heart is confounded."

Anita nods softly. "It's fine. Everything is fine. You don't have to apologize to me," She says, shifting, pulling away from my grasp with a subtle yank of her hand from mine.

Why? I was so close. I think she was beginning to believe in me, just a little bit. I was one step closer to fixing the mess I've made of my marriage.

I throw my arms around her waist, kissing her belly gently, pressing my head against it. Her hands reluctantly stroke my hair. I take a shuddering breath, my eyes closed. She's so warm. If this isn't love what is it? Perhaps I have caught her case of obsession. Kissing her, passing her feelings between our lips, that's what did it, I bet. That desperate need to be seen by someone, did she infect me with it in her kiss?

But then, why do I want more? I want to grace her skin with my lips, every inch of it I can manage. The scent of her...it's intoxicating. My cock hardens at the sight of her, the smell of her, I feign for her now.

"Lance...let go of me."

I shake my head, pressing my face deeper into her soft flesh.

"Lance, don't be childish," She chides me, her body heating up. Is she embarrassed or is she feeling what I am? This feeling is scary, but rousing, like a play of horror.

"I am beside myself at the thought of you," I whisper. "You are upending me, and I don't know how to deal with it? I am not used to love, and it is all-consuming, like a raging fire, and I am used to cool objective facts."
I glance up at her, those dark eyes empty as she looks down at me.

Her dark curls settle against her shoulders curving around her ample breasts, surrounding me. Her dark eyes glow down at me.

"Don't look at me with those eyes," I shake. "I can't take it. You despise me, don't you?"

My feelings, once vibrant and colorful have settled down to a pale shade of indifference.

My eyes widen as I chuckle in realization.

"No...No Lance. I don't despise you."

Because I am not even worthy of being despised. I am so far from her heart it cannot even be swayed by hate. It's too much to bear! It hurts too much, I can't stand it.

"Let me go," She whispers.

I swallow. Her nightgown is white, she's never out of it, it seems. It's always resting on her arm. I clear my throat, and stand, lifting her strap to her shoulder. I cannot have her heart, I guess. But I can fix it. I can make her happy. I will. I must. And I will start with addressing whoever the man is who hurt her.
I smile, and kiss her gently. She lets me. Her eyes drifting over my face.

"I am heading out, I'll be back late. Don't wait for me," I inform her.

Duke Castillo is a frightening man. He's imposed his well upon the empire in the King's face for a long time. His son, holds a similar countenance and if I were anyone else, perhaps I would be intimidated.

"When you asked for a meeting I didn't know what to expect," The Little Duke, Carlos Castillo says with a smirk. "We're family and yet we meet so ill-frequently."

I narrow my eyes, glancing at the teacup in front of me. They despise me and my house, there is no room from debate on that fact. I wouldn't be surprised if he poisoned me. Anita had many matches of higher standing then me, and her family seemed...disappointed at her choice in a marriage partners. Though, I suppose you run the risk of folly when you allow an 8 year old to make such a choice in the first place.

"We are in-laws," I amend his statement carefully, "You know how that goes,"

Carlos chuckles. "Can we really be considered in-laws? We've known you since you were young—"

"Did you visit my home last night?" I ask.
Carlos blinks and shrugs. "Is that forbidden?"

I smile. "I am sure you have heard, but Mrs. Mendoza and I have been considering if our union should continue."

Carlos sips his tea, and sets it down on his saucers with care. "I have. You cannot seriously intend to leave my sister, the Flower of the Empire? If you have...dalliances as long as you keep them quiet—"

"So you were there yesterday." i interrupt, nodding to his gloved hand. "And it's your hand print that lingers on my wife's delicate skin."

He narrows his eyes. "Siblings can get a little rough—"
"I think I should take it."

Carlos' lips twitch into something that couldn't be called a smile. A simper of discontent. "Excuse me?"
"The hand you used to touch my wife. I should take it. I could. If I challenge you to a duel, right now, with intent to maim you, do you think you could defend yourself against me well enough to prevent me from taking that hand?"

His fingers close around his left hand gingerly. "Surely you don't mean—"

I lean forward. "I do mean. So, you have two options. I can challenge you and see how many of your parts I can lop off, or...you can tell me the truth."

Carlos' throat bobs with effort as he swallows roughly, scoffing. "The truth? About what?"

I nod to the family portrait behind him. "I want to know where her scars come from. I want to know what you did to her. Don't leave anything out."