Date Me, Mr. Archer

thirty seven | love and trust

AN: :/// please vote:))

He was hurt. And badly. If the IV stand that he rolled around with him everywhere he went wasn't any indication, the moment I'd touched him behind his head and tiptoed to kiss him, the bandage there was enough evidence.

Was it normal to feel my heart clench in itself at watching him so hurt? Was it okay to feel empathetic towards him and have this urge to ask him if he was okay?

When I'd left the office yesterday, I'd decided to never look back at him again the same way I used to when I'd been blinded by his charms. He’d played me once and I’d be a damned fool if I’d let him play me again so I’d decided to marry him for the sake of my father and be done with it.

I had broken ties with my father too. This marriage to Kyst was my last way of repaying him for the birth my mother and he gave me. There would be no more excuses for his behaviour neither would there be any manipulation from his side to me. In the past five months, I’d changed terribly and now, no one would be able to throw me around like they wished to. I’d had enough of living for other and being a pawn in other’s lives. It was my turn now.

“Where were you last night?” His voice was a hoarse whisper against my ear as he leaned in, his signature smell of rain and citrus enveloping me.

The limo’s engine revved to life as it sped off. Kyst turned the partition curtain off so we were both alone in the back and he turned to me. I didn't acknowledge him. I just couldn't. I didn't trust myself to not start crying if I even saw his face when only his voice affected me so much and touched the parts of my heart I’d thought he'd destroyed.

After he had kicked me out of his office yesterday, I’d bought a movie ticket and sat in the theatre, crying for hours. In those hours, reckless thoughts had invaded my mind. I’d thought whether he'd only agreed to fake date me because he had known we were to get married. Maybe he had always known he’d have to get used to me and so he’d let me close to him in the first place. I hadn’t experienced hurt greater than what I felt yesterday in the dark walls of the theatre room as some chic romance movie had played on the screen.

What if it was true? What if he really had agreed to date me because he knew he had to adjust with me anyway? Was I not enough?

I clenched my jaw.

There was no way I was going to doubt myself and my worth for some asshole guy who only knew how to lie and decieve. But he's not some asshole guy, my brain whispered and I shut my eyes, deeming the stupid thoughts to go away.

It didn't matter what I had felt for him, what I still felt for him. The only answer to deception was hitting where it hurt the most. It didn't matter whether he really ever loved me or not, Kyst Archer was a proud man. And any man as successful and proud as him hated being ignored by anyone. Especially by someone as little as me.