Finally Grounded (Sequel To The One Who Grounds Me)

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Tiana

It's been two days since Tristan brought me to his humble adorn. We haven't spoken unless it's about my "health" or the "baby". No matter how hard I try to get a raise out of him, I always ended up being ignored. I just didn't know what else to do now.

I wanted to run but the condition I was in right now... was putting on a lid on my plans.

Tucking my hands into the pocket of my baggy jeans. I glanced at the wall. There was a picture hanging on the wall of Tristan and I. My eyebrows furrowed, I think we took this when we went to that carnival a couple weeks ago. At that time, Tristan was celebrating the launching of his new series. During that time span, I was harbouring my biggest secret.

I smiled sadly. I really missed that carefree smile of his. My fingers itched to trace the outline of his face. Someone cleared their throat and my attention snapped to them. Tristan was leaning against the banister lazily.

He was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a long gray long sleeve cashmere sweater. "Shouldn't you be resting?" He asked with a calculative look.

"I'm not tired." I snapped. Lifting my foot, I slammed it down harshly on the step only to end up stumbling. I hissed when I felt the ache in my side returned.

Before i could faceplant on the floor, Tristan gathered me in his arms. His hold was gentle. My head bumped into his hard chest. I shivered when his cologne teased my nostrils.

I missed being in his embrace so much. The memories of our time together bounced around in my head.

Tilting my head back. I gazed at him. Tristan's green orbs were focused on me. His pink lips quivered.

I opened and closed my mouth. I tipped on my toes in desperation. Before our lips could collide, there was a knock at the door. We both pulled apart guilty..... well I did that.

Not Tristan. His expression was reserved. Dusting off the imaginary dirt from off his shoulder. He walked stiffly towards the door.

Not waiting for him to open the door. I flew out of the hallway and headed towards the kitchen. Waddling over to the fridge, I pulled the door open and stuff my head inside. Once again, I am being selfish! I was so caught up in the moment! Fuck!

The sound of heels, clicking against the tiles resounded in the empty hall way. Grabbing a bottle water from the fridge, I closed the door. Pivoting on my heels, I turned around only to come eye to eye with the one person, I did not want to deal with ever again.

Cathy stood in the door way with her hands clenched into fists. She looked like, she was on the verge of dying. There were bags underneath her eyes... not to mention her once round cheeks were sunken in. She looked like a one of those zombies from Micheal Jackson's Thriller music video. Jesus.

She marched over to me. I backed up unconsciously and a crease appeared in the middle of her forehead. The more she advanced the more, I backed away until my ass slammed against the counter.

Before she could, close the space between us. She was yanked backwards by Tristan. His gaze was cold as he stared at her. "Don't you dare put your flithy paws on her!" He spat in an unpleasant tone.

Cathy's face paled at the sound of Tristan's voice.

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