It Takes Two to Tango

Chapter 13:Blurred Lines

Aria

The tears came like a flood of betrayal and hurt that I couldn't hold back. They streamed down my face, hot and unrestrained, each one a silent testament to the deep sense of betrayal that gnawed at my heart. Ace's usually cocky smile faltered, morphing into an expression of genuine concern as he watched me crumble. It was a look I had never seen on him before – a mixture of regret and something akin to fear, as if he was suddenly realizing the gravity of his actions.

Fuck him!

I tried to run off to our bathroom, trying to get away from this asshole but, of course, being the son of a bitch that he was, Ace followed me and swiftly stopped me from closing him out. With him standing in the doorway of the bathroom, the space felt way too small. Once a space of privacy and solace it now felt suddenly suffocating. The walls, adorned with elegant tiles that reflected our shadows, seemed to close in on me, echoing my heavy breathing and amplifying the tumultuous emotions swirling within me. The air was thick, heavy with unspoken words and stifled breaths, as if the very atmosphere was charged with the intensity of our confrontation.

I tried to steady my breathing, to regain some semblance of control, but the effort was futile. The dam had broken, and weeks of pent-up frustration, hidden vulnerabilities, and unacknowledged feelings were flooding out in an uncontrollable deluge. I was aware of Ace's presence, his figure looming uncertainly a few steps away, a hesitant witness to my pathetic breakdown. Why the hell did I agree to working with this man?

"Aria, please," he began, his voice unsteady. But the words were lost on me. All I could hear was the pounding of my own heart, a frantic drumbeat underscoring my turmoil.

His hand reached out, as if to offer comfort, but I recoiled instinctively. The same hands that had thumbed through the pages of my diary, violating the sanctuary of my innermost thoughts, now sought to soothe me. The irony was not lost on me, and it fueled my anger, even as my heart ached with a pain that was too complex to fully comprehend.

In this moment, within the confines of these four walls, the dynamic between us had shifted. Ace, always so sure of himself, so unapologetically confident, now appeared uncertain, his usual facade crumbling under the weight of my emotional state. And I, the strong black woman who tried to always maintain my composure and control, now stood here embarrassed with my raw emotions completely exposed.

"Aria, listen to me," Ace pleaded once again, his voice tinged with a desperation I had never heard before. The unfamiliar tremor in his tone caught me off guard, hinting at a depth of emotion that Ace had always skillfully hidden beneath his confident exterior.

I turned to face him, my eyes still brimming with tears. "Why the fuck should I? Because you're suddenly worried about me all of a sudden?" I spat, the bitterness in my voice clashing sharply with the vulnerability I felt. It was a strange juxtaposition – the anger and the hurt, each vying for dominance in the chaos of my heart. "You read my diary, Ace. That's literally unforgivable."

He flinched, as if my words were a physical blow. For a moment, he looked lost, like a man grappling to find his footing in a suddenly unfamiliar terrain. His usual smirk, the easy arrogance that defined him, had evaporated, leaving behind a rawness that was unsettling.

"I know I shouldn't have done it," he said, his voice low, each word measured as if he was treading on dangerous ground. "But you've got to understand, Aria. I've been going out of my fucking mind trying to figure you out." Ace sighed heavily as he continued. "You're not like anyone I've ever met. And when I saw that diary... I thought maybe it would give me some insight into who you really are."

His confession, while not excusing his actions, unexpectedly revealed a vulnerable side. This struck a chord within me. Ace, always the epitome of cool indifference, was showing a depth I had never seen. Known for his nonchalance, partying, drugs, and detachment, Ace had always appeared untroubled by deeper, more complex emotions. His world seemed one of casual amusement, far removed from the turmoil's of uncertainty and fear.