Arabel's POV
Despite the anger shimmering inside of me, I let it out, watching his face devoid of emotion turn aghast with shock.
He suddenly leans back like someone who just had an attack, making me wonder if I was wrong when I thought he was going to sigh in total relief.
Determined to get it all out, I continue painstakingly. "Before the divorce, I was pregnant with her. I…I knew… I found out that night, and I was on my way to inform you about the news when I heard you speaking with her. I decided I wasn't going to act as if I heard you clearly cheating on me…”
“I didn't cheat…” I raise a hand to cut him short.
“I am not done!”
I am not looking at him, out of fear of what I would do to him, considering how much pain and ache I am feeling as the memories rush in like a wave of the ocean.
“When I entered, you asked me if I received the papers, like it was something consensual. Something we both wanted. Something we both knew about beforehand. I asked what papers, keeping aside my intention to reveal the news about our child. You blurted out with confidence that it was the divorce papers. I couldn't tell you. How could I? Telling you I was pregnant with your seed growing inside of me when I knew the feelings weren't mutual was apparently a way of tying you down. It would be like an excuse for you not to divorce me anymore.” I sob, breathing heavily and pushing back the choking tide of panic uprising in my chest.
I don't want to break down. I need to let it out. It is either now or never.
"Richard, I felt unwanted. Clearly, I was. We were married for three years, and it never occurred to me that my husband was not and would never love me. We were married for three years, and the only gift you could give me was the divorce papers, simply because your lover was back. How could you?!” I raise my voice and meet his gaze. Filled with rage, I stand up and walk closer to him, bending down to his height. “Richard, how could you? You ridiculed me. You made me homeless, and a single mother. You knew my weaknesses, and you used them against me. You left me on the sidewalk of life after I had walked with you all the way. You made me believe you were beginning to fall head over heels in love with me until you slept with me, and then boom, a divorce.”
Suddenly, he grabs me. My face.
His eyes are also brimming with fresh tears. “No, Arabel. No, please don't do this. I didn't do that. I didn't cheat…”
"You did it, you jerk!" I hit my hand against his chest, uncaring about his state. My rage was building bit by bit, and now I have no control over it as I continue to slam my fist on his chest. “You cheated on me. You sent me out, and here you are begging for forgiveness?”
He grabs my hand firmly. “Arabella, listen to me! I swear I didn't!”
Tired of crying, I slump to the floor, feeling pathetic for crying after vowing not to show him this side of me.
I am not interested in listening to anything he wants to say. I only came here to say that Daisy was his child, and there was no way I could do that without admitting that I was Arabel.
The truth is out.
Relieved, I try to stand up, but he holds me back down, surprising me with his strength.
“Bella, look at me, please. Let me explain myself at least!”
I snort. “Explain yourself? After how many years? You lost the chance to do that when you asked for a divorce. Divorce, it is. If Daisy isn't the one thing connecting us, I promise you will never see me…”
"Arabella, stop it for God's sake, and f***ing listen to me!"
Did he just shout at me?
Really?
I want to laugh, but it only falters. Quickly, I grab the file I brought along as evidence that Daisy is his before storming to the door.
“Arabel? Arabella?” His voice trails after me, but I am too mad to want to listen to him.
I know he wouldn't follow. Getting up and grabbing his crutches to run after me would take forever. At least his conditions are now working to my advantage.
Against my will, more tears pour in as the surge of anger continues to shoot through me. It feels as if my heart is on fire or it is been twisted with a sharp object.
I can't breathe properly.
A lump is stuck in my chest.
Holding onto my chest, I fall to the ground, whimpering until it turns into a wail, uncaring of who is watching or listening.
I thought I had cried enough. Where the tears are coming from is something I have no idea about.
After denying it several times, how do I face Daisy and tell her Richard is her dad? How can I explain why Richard and I are not as close as we ought to be? How do I explain that Richard and I are not husband and wife anymore? How can I avoid getting in touch with him now that he knows? How do I stop Daisy from wanting to speak and be friends with him?
Frustration, mixed with dread and panic, hits me hard, making me bend my face in between my legs as I continue to wail.
I am pathetic.
But right now, I don't care.
I need to let it all out, and after this, there will be no more tears.
Suddenly, a strong pair of arms grabs me, and I swivel around to see Richard holding me without his crutches.
He kneels in front of me, tears streaming down his eyes as he begs. “Forgive me. And please listen to me. I didn't cheat on you. I wouldn't have asked for a divorce if I knew you didn't understand what I told you at the church on our wedding day. I practically told you this was just for a limited time, and I told you about Eve. I wanted to live up to my promise, Arabel. I'm sorry. I regret every decision I made. I didn't mean to abandon you. I just felt it was the best thing to do so I don't end up cheating on you…”
I interrupt him with a snort and a laugh. Laughing like a maniac, I watch him. “Really? You believe I will be susceptible to any of your feeble excuses?"
“No, I just want you to understand…”
“What exactly do you want me to understand? The fact that you preferred your ex-lover to me? What about the fact that you belittled me by divorcing me just to marry her? Do you think I don't know if she hadn't cheated on you as well, you would have gone ahead with the wedding? You cheated Richard, admit it. You cheated me!”
“Arabel.” His voice is gentle. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…”
"You didn't mean to," I say, breaking him off. "But you did it anyway. Thank you so much for the good life.”
I stand up hurriedly and make for my door, but surprisingly, he beats me to it, grabbing me suddenly and turning me around as my back slams the car.
“I accept it all. It's all my fault. Will you please forgive me then?”
I don't know what to say. A part of me wants to say yes, but another part, which is still mad, upset, and infuriated, wants to say a loud no.
Instead of saying anything, I push him away to enter the car and drive off when he holds me back again with desperation as he limps with a wince on his face.
“Please,” he begs with desperation as he holds me with strong arms.
I stare at him, wishing things were different between us. I wish we were deeply in love and married because of that love. I was thinking of how he would have reacted if I had told him I was pregnant with his child. Imagine what it would feel like to have him shower love and care on Daisy as a father.
But it is too late.
We are divorced, but we have a child for each other.
Those imaginations can never happen. Our faults was venturing into that loveless marriage, which is now the doom of us both.
I don't think I can ever love a man the way I love him. He has also been single since I left.
Suddenly, something cold touches my lips as he slams his lips on mine and tilts my head up. My heart somersaults as the freshness of his breath hits me, reminding me of how much I loved his breath, his scent, his cologne, and virtually everything about him.
Despite his bad leg, his body feels strong, and his mouth is warm against mine as he darts his tongue out to part my lips.
Dazzled, I let him in. Breathing heavily as his tongue explores the insides of my mouth, I conquer every desire to push him away, stay mad at him, and never stop fighting him.
When his hands roam my body, which is on fire, a wave of nostalgia hits me, jerking me back to reality.
Slowly, it dawns on me that this isn't a dream or one of my imaginations. So I push him off with all my strength, my eyes red with fury.
He is breathless and does not look surprised like he did when he kissed me at that dance shop. This time, it looked like he kissed me intentionally and not by mistake.
It makes shame color my face pink.
When he moves closer, as if to convince me more, I raise my hand and slap him in the face before muttering. “Asshole.”
Shocked, he stands frozen, and I dash into the car, igniting the engine quickly and driving away without sparing him another glance.