Capturing Her Heart

10

•Akari Davidson•

"Are you seriously still putting on that useless makeup?" he snorted.

I chuckled at his question, choosing to focus on my makeup. I needed to make an appearance at my sister's house. For some godforsaken reason, she insisted on my presence.

We hadn't spoken much since Elijah died. I pushed my mind away from that night and refocused on my eyeliner.

I heard him walk away and sighed. Going through a custody battle was bad enough, but living together during it was even worse.

"Hurry up, I don't have all day!" he yelled.

Regrettably, he was my ride there. My car keys were missing, and I was certain he had taken and hidden them. He despised my newfound independence; he preferred me when I was blindly obedient.

As I applied the final touches to my makeup, my thoughts drifted to her. Clearly, something deeper was at play. One day we were laughing and having fun, and the next, she was saying she didn't want to be friends.

While that might be true, she couldn't deny the connection we shared. I might be grasping at straws, but I definitely felt something.

The last time I shook her hand, there was a spark between us. I could text her, but I'm certain she's already blocked my number.

I sighed softly and exited the bathroom, heading to the guest room where I've been sleeping for the past four years.

Approaching my closet, I retrieved a pair of blue jeans and a black v-neck, laying them out on my bed.

I dressed quickly, tying my hair into a messy bun. Opting for glasses instead of contacts, I placed them on my nose, not in the mood for the extra effort.

Descending from the stairs, I saw him at the dining table, preoccupied with his phone. With a quiet sigh, I gathered the energy to endure his presence once more.

"Cassius, we can go now," I announced.

He glanced up before returning to his phone. Rolling my eyes, I snatched his keys from the table and headed for the front door. As I reached for the knob, he yanked my arm back.

He snatched his keys from my hand and gave me a piercing look. I held his gaze steadily, showing that I wasn't scared of him.

He couldn't strike me. He could, technically, but the court would take my side if he did. I pulled my wrist free from his hold and folded my arms.

The anger in his eyes was evident. It would have frightened anyone else, but after 10 years, it's something you grow accustomed to.

Yet, no matter how furious he became, he never laid a hand on me or our child. That was the sole redeeming quality I saw in him.

"Are you going to keep glaring at me like a caveman, or can we leave now?" I inquired.

He clearly didn't appreciate my question. His breathing grew heavier. I couldn't help but chuckle quietly at his sensitivity.

Turning back, I reached for the doorknob, satisfied that he didn't attempt to stop me this time. Exiting the house, I headed towards his truck.

Settling in the backseat, I waited for him to unlock the door. Watching him exit and re-enter the house multiple times, I sighed and rolled my eyes, knowing he was doing it deliberately.

"Stop being childish and get in the car!" I shouted.

He emerged and locked the door behind him. Settling into the car, he turned on the engine before unlocking the doors.