CHASING MY EX-WIFE

CHAPTER 64

Richard's POV

Anything to get rid of this inner turmoil is what I intend to do. Something like drowning myself in alcohol and thinking about how pathetic my life has become.

Not only am I divorced, but I am also someone whom Arabel is ashamed to refer to as the father of her child.

That is what I feel she is doing.

Why the pretense? Why does she keep doing this? Even to our friends? I'm sure Ashley is mad at her, and I hope she forgives her.

Caleb, on the other hand, understands me. When Caleb started questioning me about her, I was tempted to reveal everything to him. I was tempted to say that she was my ex-wife, and I loved and still love her.

The fact that I had to pretend not to be Daisy's father was more irksome. I couldn't even answer the poor girl when she called me Daddy.

When did Arabel become this cruel? Is there more to this? Is it just the shame of calling me her daughter's father?

After laying Daisy to sleep in my room, I step down, moving to the bar to grab a drink. Flopping onto a couch, I pour the wine into a glass cup and down it all.

I pour more for the second time, gulping it all down, hoping it will ease my anger. I have never been so mad at Arabel this way. I don't want to be, but I can't help it.

There is no point in hiding it, and now I don't know what she intends to do. Whether to keep up with it with others or come out clean.

Whatever she wants, I will do.

While pouring the third glass, a knock resounds on my door, and I ignore it, gulping down the whole contents of the bottle.

The sound comes again, and I get up with a groan before trotting to the door and pulling it open.

Arabel.

She looks up, and our eyes connect.

Her eyes are red and puffy from crying. This diminishes my anger to almost nothing.

When she breaks down again, I pull her into my arms and shut the door. Slowly, I rub my hand over her back in a soothing manner to comfort her.

She continues crying for some minutes before looking up and apologizing. “I'm sorry, Richard. I didn't mean to deny you anything. I just didn't know how to tell her, considering how I had to pretend all along. Telling her now seemed like a bad idea, so I decided to keep up with it. I intended to tell her someday, but definitely not now. I wasn't prepared because I never knew you were going to show up…”

I slam my lips against hers to shut her up.

She is rambling. My head is spinning, and I can't even make out everything she is saying.

I think she will push me away, but she doesn't. She stands frozen, her lips cold on mine, until I summon up enough courage to move them against hers.

Once again, a tear cascades from her eyes and lands on my lips. I taste it as I continue kissing her, seeking dominance and wanting to take all of her.

When she opens her mouth, I think she wants me to explore every part of her mouth, but her words stop me. “Thank you for understanding. Thank you for not being angry with me.”

I pull away forcefully, embarrassment creeping through my expression.

Awkwardly, we stand staring at each other. She bites her lips, making me wish to kiss them again, but I know I can't.

She already voiced her intentions not to be with me in a relationship except for friendship. Doing this will ruin that chance, and I can't risk it.

“Come sit, Daisy is asleep. I've already put her to bed," I declare, guiding her to sit on the couch where I was previously seated.

She nods.

Her gaze lands on the bottle of alcohol I just took, and just as I'm about to take it away, she stops me. “Wait.”

Her hold is on my hand, doing unimaginable things to my existence.

“Do you have more?”

“What?”

“More of this. I need one too, please,” she pleads, her face all swollen from all the crying.

Nodding in response, she lets go of my hand, and I move to the bar to grab two more bottles, two clean glasses, and a handkerchief.

When I walk back into the living room, her eyes are closed, and she leans backward, looking exhausted.

I stand for a moment, watching her. “Do you want to sleep?”

She opens her beautiful brown eyes to meet mine. “No, I have a headache.”

“Then you shouldn't take this. It's not advisable for you. Besides, you don't drink alcohol…”

“I do now!” She snaps and grabs the bottle from me. She opens it, picks up the glass cup, and fills it to the brim before bringing it to her lips.

Envious of the glass having a taste of her lips, I watch her gulp everything down in one go.

She drops the glass and holds onto her head. “I feel so bad. Like a traitor. She trusted me. She is upset with me. I thought I would get the chance to speak to her, but Caleb asked me to leave. Shit! I f**k up!”

“No, you didn't,” I chip in, pouring some wine for myself as well. “You did well. Excellently well. Ashley shouldn't blame you. I blamed you too at first, but now I don't anymore. You were only trying to protect your image, and perhaps you wanted to…”

“You don't know why I did what I did, Richard. Don't pretend like you're not also upset with me!” She retorts sharply, making me wonder when Arabel had such a sharp tongue and short temper.

I smile. “Yes, I am.”

“Oh, God, I'm so sorry. I don't even know how to apologize properly to you.”

It reminds me of how I was always the one apologizing and begging her for forgiveness. How she feels is exactly how I felt, but I can't tell her that.

“It's fine. I understand.”

“Thank you.” She gulps down another glass, relaxing back in the chair. “I'm so messed up.”

“What? Arabel, what…”

“Yeah. I am. You must be wondering if this is the same Arabel. I also know how much I have changed, and to be honest, there are some behaviors I hate about myself now, including how I want to present myself as good to everyone…”

“You are good,” I point out in agreement, but she shakes her head.

“People who pretend aren't good, are they?” She poses this question, and I remain silent. “Ever since the divorce, I have lived a different life under a different identity, and now I am used to pretending to be almost everyone. Where is that Arabel who was so carefree, jovial, kind, and good to everyone? Where is that girl who smiled genuinely at everyone who passed her way? Where has she gone?”

She leans forward again, pours the third glass, and drinks it all in one go.

As she rambles on, I wonder if she is beginning to feel tipsy or if this is just a form of confession because of how bad she feels about her behavior.

“I miss her, even though I like the new Arabella a bit more. I am no longer pathetic and stupid.”

“Arabel?” She finally shuts up and leans backwards again with her eyes closed.

A moment passes by between us in silence. Suddenly, she begins to weep again, making me drop the bottle and move closer to her.

“Arabel, I told you it was fine, didn't I? Don't worry, I am going to explain things to Caleb first thing in the morning and also apologize to Ashley. I am her boss, so she will definitely listen to me.”

With tears striking her face, she looks up and mutters. “Former boss. She said she was quitting.”

“What?!” I exclaim. She didn't tell me that. I didn't get a proper notice. How can she quit just like that? Why didn't Caleb tell me anything as well?

“You didn't know?”

I shake my head. “No.”

I place her head on my shoulder while sitting close to her, my mind racing and thinking of how to get a replacement as soon as possible.

I don't care if she is my friend's bride, I will have to deduct her salary for the sudden notice.

If only I knew, I would have asked Tessy from the lobby to post a vacancy for her job ever since the wedding.

I sigh.

“Are you worried about finding a good replacement soon?” Arabel demands, looking up.

“Yes.”

“Don't worry,” she implores, even though I don't know what she means by that.

With her head back in position, we stay in silence until my phone begins to ring on the table, forcing me to stretch my hand to pick it up.

Arabel is already dozing off, but she opens her eyes as soon as the phone begins to ring. I stretch further to grab it when I tumble onto her couch, earning a low chuckle from her as she tries to push me off.

“You heavy chunker, get off me!” She squeals, her eyes sparkling with happiness, replacing the sadness that had been right in her eyes earlier.

“I am not one, Arabel. I thought I warned you never to call me that again.”

“You are,” she insists, laughing heartily.

I grab her, and she squeals again. “Am I one?”

“Yes, you are.”

I tickle her again, and she cries out, wanting to wriggle from my hold to escape. She called me that the night we had sex. I thought she was just kidding, but she insisted, telling me how heavy I was on top of her.

Perhaps it was because she was really small and I was heavily built. That gave us a good laugh, just like now.

“Richard, please. Stop!” She is crying and laughing at the same time, so I stop my torture on her, watching her sober up and wiping her tears.

We stare at each other for a while, my mind reeling back to that night. I'm sure she is thinking the same, because I see a flicker of an emotion I can't place.

When she licks her lower lip, I can't help it anymore. I lean forward and take her lips in a searing kiss.

This time, instead of pulling away or letting something jerk us away, she leans further in and allows me to kiss her thoroughly, my tongue delving into her mouth, seeking a grand entrance.

****
Is this the real Arabel kissing Richard or the drunk Arabel?

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