BILLIONAIRE'S UNINTENDED BRIDE

Chapter 6: Echoes in the Glass

Chapter 6: Echoes in the Glass

Upon our arrival at the penthouse, a sudden, inexplicable urge for alcohol surged through me. I found myself gravitating towards the kitchen, where I unceremoniously grabbed two bottles of wine.

Luke and Sebastian followed, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. Luke, in particular, wore a look of worry etched deep into his features, a clear sign of his growing apprehension.

As my hand closed around the wine bottle, I could see Luke was about to interject. I cut him off sharply, "Don't fucking say anything about it, Luke," and walked past him, heading straight to our private pool to drink alone.

From my solitary refuge by the pool, the muffled sounds of Luke and Sebastian's heated exchange reached me. Luke's anger resonated through his words, his frustration about Sebastian revealing the reason behind our marriage palpable.

Sebastian's apologies, laced with regret, clashed with Luke's rising temper. Their discussion shifted to my uncharacteristic drinking, speculating on whether the trauma to my brain had altered me in some profound way.

But within, I felt nothing but a suffocating frustration, a desire to escape the confines of a life I no longer recognized.

I continued to drink, the bottles gradually emptying, lost in my own whirlpool of frustration and defiance. I could sense Luke's gaze on me through the glass wall, his eyes heavy with concern and helplessness.

Eventually, Luke couldn't bear it any longer. He came out to the pool area, his steps measured but determined. He reached for the wine glass in my hand, his touch gentle yet firm. "Emily, that's enough. You've had plenty. I can't watch you do this to yourself," he said, his voice low and filled with worry.

As he cupped my cheek, his words were tinged with empathy and regret. "I know what you're going through is hard. This isn't the way to deal with it. I'm sorry if I've contributed to your pain, but I can't let you continue like this."

In a burst of defiance, I snapped back, the sharpness in my voice a surprise even to myself. "I don't know what to tell you, Luke. I feel like drinking, and that's what I'm doing. I don't need your lectures, just let me be."

In a fleeting moment of defiance, I reached out to reclaim the wine bottle, my movements blurred and unsteady. But Luke, with reflexes sharpened by urgency, intercepted my grasp.

In one fluid, decisive motion, he sent the bottle arching through the air, its contents spilling into the cerulean waters of the pool, ripples distorting its tranquil surface.

There was a tangible shift in his tone, now suffused with a poignant blend of concern and heartfelt regret.

"I know this is hard for you, what you're grappling with. But seeking solace at the bottom of a wine bottle isn't the solution. I'm sorry for any role I've played in your anguish. I understand your feelings, your frustration, but allowing you to continue down this path – I can't, and I won't. It's not what you need, and it's not who you are."

His words, though gentle, carried the weight of unyielding resolve, a testament to his unwavering care amidst the storm of our entangled lives.

Drenched in the haze of alcohol, my words spilled out, raw and unfiltered, a cascade of anger and frustration aimed squarely at Luke.

"You just don't fucking get it, Luke! How could you? I'm drowning in a sea of nothingness, overwhelmed, frustrated, and so goddamn angry, especially at you! I'm so lost, not knowing how to be, or what to do. Do you see how fucked up all this is? Just leave me alone, let me figure this out on my own, and for God's sake, go fuck yourself!" T

he intensity of my emotions scorched the air between us.

Luke, ever the immovable force, faced my storm head-on.

"No, Emily, walking away isn't an option for me. I'm not going to let you push me away. I refuse to stand by and watch you destroy yourself. Hate me if you must, but I won't let you harm yourself. Not on my watch."

My anger crested like a furious wave, and I shoved past Luke, each word dripping with venom. "

Fuck you, Luke! I'll make my own choices, live my life how I damn well please. You're not my keeper, not even my husband in any real sense. So why don't you just fuck off and leave me be?"

But Luke, an unyielding presence in the storm of my rage, held my hand with a grip that was both gentle and resolute, a grounding force against the chaos raging within me. "

Emily, I love you. I can't – and I won't – just walk away from you. No matter how much you push me, I'm not giving up on us. I'll always love you, and I'll wait for you, for as long as it takes, no matter the cost."

My laugh was tinged with bitterness, a hollow sound in the vast space of our troubles, as I wrenched my hand from his. "You might as well wait for eternity, Luke. I don't see any future for us, not when our marriage feels like a lie. It just won't work."

The flash of pain in Luke's eyes was palpable, a silent cry that resonated deep within me. Yet, I was ensnared in a labyrinth of my own anguish. How could I embrace a love lost in the fog of forgotten memories?.

With a heavy heart, I retreated to the sanctuary of my room, barricading myself against the turmoil of the outside world, against Luke's unwavering devotion, and most of all, against the tangled web of emotions that ensnared my heart.

Luke's attempts to reach out, with offerings of food and words of comfort, hit a wall each time. Anger had become my constant companion, flaring at the smallest of provocations.

Through the closed door, I overheard Luke and Sebastian's heated exchange. Luke's voice, heavy with concern, berated Sebastian for his carelessness.

Sebastian countered, his voice laced with the belief that I needed to navigate these troubled waters on my own. Luke's worry about my changed behavior, possibly due to the brain trauma, was evident in his every word.

But who was I before all of this? The truth was, I didn't know. All I knew was that I craved to do things that brought me fleeting moments of satisfaction, free from everyone's watchful eyes and expectations.

I was exhausted from being treated like a fragile doll, yearning for a freedom I couldn't quite grasp. This newfound rebellion, this burning need to break free from the chains of a past I didn't recall, was the only thing that felt authentic in a world muddled with uncertainties and forgotten truths.