CHASING MY EX-WIFE

CHAPTER 106

Arabel's POV

I wake up with a jolt, beads of trepidation dropping from my temple as I make eye contact with Richard.

“Bella, are you okay?” He hurries over to my side, sliding into the bed and embracing me.

I can't help but hug him back.

Knowing he is here and the dream wasn't a reality, has relief washing down every part of my system.

I can't handle being tortured again. I don't think I can survive being in that hell again. Not again.

Alex is dead, but that isn't doing anything to eliminate my fear and trauma. I keep having nightmares of him pulling the trigger, hurting me over and over again.

It makes me teary.

I abruptly pull away, realizing I'm hugging the same man I should be angry with, and ask. "What are you doing here?"
Confusion replaces the worry on his face as he leans back before answering. “I told you I was coming with you.”

“And I told you to go back home. I can take care of myself!” I snap at him, as he continues to stare at me.

Instead of responding to me, he stays silent. He is not making an effort to leave.

I allowed him to bring us back home because there was little or nothing I could do without the use of my right arm. There was no way I could take care of myself and Daisy while traveling alone.

Ashley had to go back with Caleb to New York after I told them I was coming home to London instead. She didn't look pleased about my decision either, but I knew I needed to be back home.

As soon as we got here, I told him to leave, but apparently he didn't.

I have a whole pack of staff looking after me. Why should he bother? Natty won't hesitate to clean me up and do whatever I want her to. But the more Richard stays back, the more helpless he makes me feel.

He makes me feel like I am crippled and incapable of doing anything. Or perhaps he is trying to return the favor.

Just because I helped him after his accident doesn't mean he must help me back in return.

A knock interrupts my thought, and Natty comes in with a tray of food. She drops the tray, flashing me a smile and standing awkwardly for a moment before leaving without a word.

It makes me want to call her back, but the guilt settling inside of me won't allow it.

I am not the same Arabel. I don't smile, converse, or look at them the way I used to. In my heart, the only emotion I feel is anger. Anger toward everyone.

I can't bring myself to smile at any of them when I am vulnerable.

Richard grabs the tray and settles on the couch beside the bed before opening the meal and picking up the cutlery.

I dart a glance his way, but he ignores me. “You should eat so you can take your medicines.”

He scoops up some of the meal and stretches the spoon toward his mouth. I don't accept it, and I don't turn my eyes away from him.
 
“Bella? You should eat!”

The more he tries to talk to me, the more furious I become. I feel like shoving the whole thing in his mouth and having him thrown out.

But how can I do that when I no longer feel comfortable around any of my staff? I can't bring myself to tell Natty to help me take a bath.

I can't wet the cast on my arm, and I would need assistance to take a bath. Richard is the only one who has seen my nakedness.

The knowledge angers me even more.

Finally, he gives up and drops the spoon. He tries to hold my hand, but I yank my hands free immediately.

Frustration sweeps past his face, making me feel a tiny bit of guilt.

He stands by my side for a while before going down on his knees. “Arabel, I know I have wronged you. I know I asked for a second chance, and I ruined it by lying to you. Please let me take care of you. Let me be by your side. Let out all the pent-up anger and tears. I'm growing increasingly concerned about the way you're holding everything inside. If you feel like hitting me, feel free to do so. I did what I did because I love you. You wouldn't admit you were her, and I needed evidence to know you were indeed her. I only did that so I could be sure you were her. And about my memory, I was scared of losing you. I'm so sorry. I promise I won't do this again. There will be no more secrets or lies between us. Just forgive me for this…”

I closed my eyes, drowning out the rest of the priest's words from the day Alex dragged me to the podium for our wedding.

No matter how I try, the scenes won't go away. They won't leave me.

“Arabel?” Richard's arms grab me, making me open my eyes to meet his worried gaze searching my face. “You were trembling? Are you cold?”

I stare at him blankly.

“Bella?” He shakes me again and pulls me into a hug.

My eyes blink, and I realize I was just lost in a trance. It felt like I was back in the registry, getting married to that monster.

A sob escapes my mouth.

“Let it all out. It is high time you did that.” Richard encourages me to cry it out, and I do. I continue to cry about my situation and how I haven't been able to bring myself to see my daughter.

Now Alex's death does not bother me anymore.

My situation does. My mental health. It makes me wonder if I can return to my normal self.

But I should be grateful.

What if he had succeeded, and we got married? Was he going to force himself on me, too? What more torture would have waited for me as his bride?

At the thought of this, I gripped Richard's clothes, letting my tears soak the back of his shirt.

He continues to rub a hand over my back, up and down, until my cries turn into hiccups, and he lays me down on the bed.

“You should get some sleep. I will be here to feed you when you become hungry, okay?”

Too exhausted to argue, I nod meekly.

"Good girl," he says, flashing one of his handsome smiles, which stirs something inside of me.

Emotion.

Did I just feel something other than anger? Did I just feel a thrill shoot up my spine at the sight of his smile?

When he turns to go out, his hand leaving mine, I stop him. “Richard.”

He halts and twirls around slowly to lock eyes with me. I see pain, regret, hope, and sorrow in his eyes, which prompts me to take a deep breath and express my gratitude. “Thank you.”

Surprise flutters through his face before he comes back to sit on the couch. “Do you want me to watch your beautiful face while you sleep?”

I want to say no.

But my heart is against it.

No matter what I do or how much I try to push him away, I will always love Richard.

Meekly as a dove, I nod in the affirmative, and a smile dashes to his face before he grabs my hand again, trailing kisses all over them, including the cast on my forearm.

“Sleep!” He orders with authority. And I find myself drifting off to sleep, with my mind on one thing.

Richard truly loves me.