CHASING MY EX-WIFE

CHAPTER 65

Arabel's POV

My eyes flicker open to see sunlight streaming into my room.

Sunlight?

My bedroom isn't facing where the sun rises. So why is there sunlight streaming through the windows?

Instantly, I shoot up from the bed as a gasp leaves my mouth when the realization dawns on me that I am in Richard’s apartment.

Shit!

I scramble out of bed, dumping the heavy duvet around me on the floor, only to realize I am wearing nothing but his shirt and my shorts.

Shit, shit, shit!

What the hell happened?

My head is banging, and I can't remember anything that happened last night apart from the dinner with Ashley and Caleb.

Giggles float into the room, and I rush out to find him, so I can ask him what happened before leaving.

Suddenly, more memories from last night drift into my head, and I halt just outside the bedroom.

Ashley was mad at me. Caleb was too, because I lied to them.

Richard looked pissed too, so he left with Daisy.

Then I came home and knocked on his door to apologize to him.

He was drinking, and I also gulped down a whole bottle.

And we kissed.

Shit! We kissed? How the hell did I allow that?

I take a step back, unsure of how to face Richard when I have no idea what happened between us last night.

Biting my lower lip, I turn around to go back inside, lie on the bed, and pretend to be asleep until he comes to wake me, or perhaps go to work so I can leave without having to face him.

This is why I don't drink.

I hate myself right now.

“Arabel?” His voice makes me halt, my heart pounding wildly like it will soon burst out of my chest. “Let's eat. I was on my way to wake you up.”

He is acting normal, like nothing happened.

Perhaps nothing happened. I should act the same.

I shut my eyes and exhaled deeply before whirling around to see him standing in nothing but a short.

My gaze lingers on his chest, not confident enough to look beyond it. In an effort to avoid looking down, the tattoo catches my attention again, and I find myself staring at his face.

He has a smile on his face, looking innocent and manly as he waves for me to come over.

Instead of following, I stand still, closing my eyes tightly. “Richard.”

He waits, staring at me with concern, before moving closer. “Is everything okay?”

I let my eyes flutter open slowly before raising my head to look him straight in the eyes. With a shake of the head, I respond. “No.”

“What? What happened?” The voice and tone of concern are sending a wave of adrenaline down my spine. It's awakening my sleeping anger.

When he touches my arm, I step away, as though that hurts. I see a flash of hurt on his face, and I decide to talk.

“First of all, where is Daisy?” I ask him, glancing around for her, but she is nowhere in sight.

“In the kitchen. I made breakfast, that's why I was coming for you so you could eat too,” he answers with a serious expression, even though the note of concern is still evident in his voice. “Are you okay?”

“What happened?” I demand from him, stepping back again to create a wide space between us.

Did we sleep in the same bed? Did we do more than kiss? Where are my clothes? How did I get changed from my clothes to his? What the hell happened?

I want to ask him everything, because he looks confused at my question.

“What do you mean?”

“Last night, what happened? Why am I in your apartment and not mine?”

He sighs deeply, letting off a steam of relief. “Obviously, you slept off…”

“And?” I cut him short, desperate for him to say everything quickly and satisfy my curiosity.

He hesitates, and I observe every single emotion flickering across his expression. “You don't remember?”

I shake my head, even though it is a half-lie. I remember the kiss. I remember all the laughter we shared about him being a heavy chunker. I remember the sadness that hung in the air around me last night. It was suffocating.

But others, I can't remember.

“Nothing happened,” he finally replies, looking serious when I know he is just lying.

I know we kissed, so why is he saying nothing happened?

“Nothing happened?” I flash an icy glare at him. “Then why am I in nothing but a short and your shirt?” I snap, emphasizing the word "your shirt." I didn't mean to be loud, but I can't help it.

Just because we are friends doesn't mean we should do this. He should have helped me to my apartment instead of letting me sleep here. He should have dropped me off to care for myself instead of helping me pull off my clothes.

Who the hell does he think he is?

“Arabel, calm down. You were drunk, and I had to help you…” A slap stops him from going any further.

My hand stinks, but I can't care less.

“How dare you? You removed my clothes, and you consider this to be a gentlemanly gesture of assistance? What happened to you assisting me back to my apartment and letting me take care of myself, uhn? You want to cross the line yet again, right?”

Hurt flashes across his face, mixed with disbelief.

“Letting you sleep here is now a crime? Perhaps I shouldn't have let you in the first place, maybe this wouldn't happen.” He retorts back sharply, looking mad.

It makes me feel a bit guilty. I came here on my own to apologize, he didn't drag me here.

Before I can snap back at him, Daisy appears. “Mommy? Daddy? Are you two fighting?”

She has a pancake in her hand. Despite her curiosity to know if we were fighting, she stuffs the remaining piece in her mouth and munches on it in delight.

"No, baby," Richard says, leaving my presence and heading over to carry her up. “Are you done eating?”

“Yes, daddy.” She nods in reply.

“Good, you need to go with Mommy now, Daddy needs to go to work, ok?” Daisy nods again, forgetting all about her unanswered question.

Richard pecks her two cheeks before raising his hand for a shake. She giggles and shakes his hand before running to my side.

Richard folds his arms around his bicep, avoiding my eyes.

“Daddy, you didn't give Mommy a kiss either?” It sounds like a question, and I open my mouth to scold her.

“Don't say that…”

“Why? He promised to treat us both nicely now that he was back from heaven. He made me pancakes for breakfast, as well as yours. Now he gave me a kiss, and he hasn't given you one,” she insists, then turns to Richard. “Daddy?”

“I will,” Richard replies without moving an inch from where he stands. “But first, I should get her breakfast from the kitchen.”

I want to tell him not to bother, but he disappears quickly while I glare at Daisy, who grins widely, unaware of the conflicting emotions inside me.

Whenever I feel this type of guilt, I keep telling myself that Richard deserves it. But other times, I feel like I am overreacting.

Despite explicitly telling him that I forgive him, I continue to punish him for his mistakes. Doesn't that make me the bad one?

Ashley jumps into my mind at the thought of being a bad person, and I sigh, wondering if I have truly changed from that good Arabel to a bad, heartless Bella.

“Here you go.” Richard comes back into the living room, meeting me where he left me. He approaches, finally meeting my gaze. “Here.”

He extends a disposable plate containing the pancakes toward me. Without a word, I take it from him, making sure this gesture won't dissolve my anger towards him.

I grab Daisy's hand and take a step forward when he blocks my way, a smirk making its way to his face.

I furrow my brows in confusion.

“You want to know what happened last night?” He asks abruptly, causing my heart to race and a chill to run down my spine.

I want to talk, but I know it will only come out in a stutter.

Slowly, he leans in, his breath fanning my exposed neck region, making me tremble. As his face approaches me, he whispers. “Do you want to know?”

If Daisy isn't here, I will push him away, but I can't right now because my right hand is holding onto Daisy's hand, and she is watching us.

Suddenly, something cold slams my cheeks, and I jerk backward to see that it is Richard.

Uncaring about my stare, he moves to the other side of my cheek and pecks it, my heart drumming so loudly.

Now that he has fulfilled Daisy's wishes, I expect him to step back, but he doesn't. His face is a few inches away from mine.

When he stares at my lips, I feel conscious of them, and my mind reels back to last night's kiss.

“What we did,” he begins. “was this.”

He leans closer and pecks my lips before pulling away with a wide grin on his face.