"We agreed. If I won, you'd marry me someday."
"Why'd you wanna marry me, anyhow?" I ask.
"So, I can do this for the rest of our lives," he stops walking with me in his arms, his radiant blue-green eyes flickering between my eyes and lips as the ons...
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Her expression haunts me.
I know that blank expression. I've seen it on multiple occasions throughout our lives.
It's a look she gets when she doesn't know how to explain the emotions she's feeling. It's the look right before she unravels and bursts into tears.
It's the look she gets when words aren't enough to express how she feels.
It's the expression when the only way to express herself is through her tears.
It's an eerie, haunting look. One I never grew accustomed to.
It's a look I did everything in my power never to see.
Obviously, I failed. I saw it more than I would've liked all 'cause of my own mistakes. I rub my hand down my face, fighting the urge to chase after Telana. Desperation ignites in my stomach, my legs twitching, my fingers clenching, knuckles turning white.
All I want to do is snatch the divorce papers from her and tear it into pieces. I want to assure her I didn't mean to sign it, but I can't do that.
Not after what I said.
I squeeze my eyes shut, releasing my clenched fists with a deep sigh hoping to control the almost painful throb of my unsteady heart. I get up off of my bed, fighting every instinct pulling, pushing, screaming inside of me to rush to her side and make sure she's okay.
I focus on the wall right next to the bedroom door where the navy-blue paint has peeled in an almost perfect circle.
"Don't get me wrong, I love the white. It's fresh, peaceful, and pure. It'll help us feel clarity in our minds." Her words echo as clear as day inside my head.
I close my eyes replaying the day we chose what color to paint our bedroom walls like a movie behind my lids. It was one of the best days amongst all the chaos of our lives.
"What's wrong with that?" I ask, wrapping my left arm over her shoulders and pulling her back against my body as I lean most of my weight on the crutch.
"White is also bland, blank, cold, and empty. We don't want that," she says, rubbing my arm with her soft warm hand.
"We don't?"
"No, we don't. We want a color which we both agree on."
"How about pink?" I smirk, knowing she hates the color coating her bedroom walls.
"Absolutely not. It's a psychotic color," she moves out of my hold, glaring adorably at me. I just want to pinch her cheeks. Don't do it, Alec. You're gonna awaken the dragon.
