Home > Chasing Forever (Chasing #4)(22)

Chasing Forever (Chasing #4)(22)
Author: Pamela Ann

Everything had been pulverized to dust. What she and I used to stand for, the future we’d once discussed in the wee hours of the morning after an intense lovemaking with our limbs intertwined, our lips never apart and our hearts beating as one—it was all gone.

The one. My only. Lucy…

How could I fathom going on living life if nothing was left to live for?

Lucy was my absolute. My ultimate. My unconditional love. The driving force behind my survival. The sole reason underneath my actions. The entirety of my heart. My fundamental supplement in life…

And now it was all for naught. We would be together nevermore.

Tonight, I hadn’t gone out thinking that I was going to let her go. True, she and I hadn’t been together for quite some time, however letting her go from the binds and constraints of my soul—my heart… The inkling hadn’t occurred.

One might ask why would I do that if my love for her was my everything? Well, it had taken just one look at her and seeing the reflection of myself in her eyes to make me pause; to ponder why there was tremendous unhappiness in those beautiful depths. Seeing that had made me feel like a selfish monster. It was me—the bastard—who had caused her profound grief, fracturing the only person I would give my life for.

The only redeemable thing I could do was to free her before she got destroyed by my greed.

This selflessness had been fueled from my love of her. How much I adored her—the stunning beauty, the shrewd mind and the kind heart. I asked myself then, could I take all that away from her because I was stubborn enough to keep fighting for something that was hard to get back?

My answer was no. Of course not. I loved her too much to rob her from all of that.

All I could hope—if there was any left—was for her to find happiness. In her career, family, friends and a lover who would cherish that brilliant gem of a woman.

+++

I had only just barely checked in at the hotel ten minutes ago and someone was already knocking on my door. Who could it be? I wondered sarcastically.

Rubbing both of my hands over my face as I groaned in irritation, I left my unpacked suitcase atop the luggage rack as I strolled out of the bedroom and into the hallway. I passed the living room with an amazing view of the city before I reached the entrance door.

Gripping the door handle, I swiftly opened it and didn’t bat an eyelash when it was the woman who legally called herself my wife.

“Amelia,” I greeted as she brushed past me, swaying along with her hips and four-inch heels. “Goodness, you could hurt yourself with those shoes. Why can’t you wear something more comfortable like other pregnant women?”

She stopped a few feet away from the glass wall overlooking the popular main streets of Madrid before spinning around to face me with a dark brow dramatically raised to question me. “Por qué mio marido?” Why, my husband? “Does it make you jealous that men still find me attractive even pregnant?”

Surely she did not believe that? Pure. Utter. Rubbish. Though I had to admit that there was a time when I had found her easy on the eyes, however that sentiment had past quite some time ago.

“Honestly, Amelia, do you not even consider the baby’s safety? Shouldn’t that be the first thing a mother would do? Is it really worth the risk? For what? A few whistles here and there and men lusting after you?” I tried to reason with her in a decent, calming manner, but her holier-than-thou attitude provoked anger and frustration.

She sashayed towards me, stopping just close enough to almost smother my eyesight with a bountiful view of her engorged breasts. “Why, mi amor, do you lust after me? I know how you love the fact that you can do anything with me and I never say no.” Her fingers reached out, touching my chest over my shirt, trailing down to the base of my neck, brushing against my skin. “Do you ever wonder what it would feel like to be inside me while I’m pregnant with our child?”

“It might surprise you, but I barely think of you at all.” I wanted to argue that it wasn’t mine until proper DNA testing had been done, yet there was no point in bringing that up. Fighting with her was exhausting.

She snickered before brazenly arresting my scrotum with her greedy hand, palming it against the base of my cock before she wrapped her fingers around my girth, stroking them both at the same time.

Amelia was a sex fiend. She thrived on making men fall to their knees and worshipping her until kingdom come, but I wasn’t that man. Sure, I had been influenced for a short period of time, however I wasn’t in the least persuaded by her shameless attempts at seduction.

My cock stirred from her callous manipulation, but even if my erection would cause me pain, I didn’t want to taint my body with another woman after I’d had Lucy weeks ago. Some might not understand the reasoning behind it, but it was the only way I could keep reliving that memory—still so fresh and vivid in my mind.

“That’s enough playing, Amelia,” I gritted through my teeth as I wrenched her hand away. How did I find that attractive before? I wondered with confusion. I supposed she was the polar opposite of Lucy and I had wanted to forget every trace of her, so Amelia had fit the bill of a temporary lover. Little had I known that she’d had her own secrets to hide.

For a second, I saw Amelia look offended, yet she immediately masked it with her usual snooty, defensive appearance. There were times I wondered what went on inside her head. I even went as far as hoping there would be an amiable side to her, that this persona was just a façade, nothing more. However, as time had gone on, I had concluded that there wasn’t much different between the woman within and the woman she appeared to be. I was certain it could be taxing to anyone’s psyche to be that vile and narcissistic around the clock. It was a pity really because she could’ve been extraordinary.

Watching her warily, I cleared my throat, getting her attention with a quick snap of her fathomless dark eyes. “Have you had dinner?”

She stared at me awhile. Silence fell in the room as she kept on gazing at me with a forbidding expression. “No.”

All right, then. Jesus, would she relax and unwind for a moment?

Shaking my head in dismay, I strode over to the nearby accent table before plucking the menu off the glossy wood. Opening the leather binder, I glanced over the abundant Spanish selection before murmuring, “I’m ordering room service. What can I get you?”

“I’m not hungry,” she muttered with annoyance.

Giving her a quick glance, I ignored her blatant pouting. “You need to eat. Even if you aren’t hungry, try to nibble on something at least.”

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