Falling For Ava (British Billionaires 2) - Page 23/65

Aghast at his unexpected reaction, I was rattled inside because I really wanted him to kiss me even if it was for the last time.

“Where the hell are you going?” I demanded, following him as a gnawing feeling began to make a hole inside my body.

“Away.” He sighed, barely stopping in his tracks. “Anywhere but here.” He paused before breathing in deeply, resuming his purpose. “I have to be away from you. I’d rather die than be anywhere near you again.”

But it had been mere seconds ago he had appeared to be tempted to kiss me, mere hours ago when he had vowed to love me forever. Moreover, it wasn’t that long ago he had given me a ring, proposing in a manner so sweet it had almost broken my resolve. After all of that, he was the one walking away instead of the other way around. How had I ended up being in this position?

Little did I know that this was the pivotal point of my existence, that whatever was shaped here tonight was going to haunt me for the rest of my life. Naïve though I was, I hadn’t realized the kind of pain and damage I had caused.

For this monstrous mishap, I’d dearly pay with my blood, my soul, and my tarnished heart.

Chapter 14

Present

Ava

Shocked and immobilized, I stared for however long into the space Craig had just stood inches from me, gazing down with unadulterated animosity boring out of his eyes. The enmity had been so profound I felt it chafe my skin, to which he had passionately set on fire not so long ago.

How had this happened? How was it possible I hadn’t seen this without my rose-tinted glasses on? How foolish was it of me not to believe what my gut had been telling me all along? I had known there was something that didn’t add up to what he was trying to portray. The evidence had been there. The signs were glaring had I looked into it more deeply without having his charms disarm me along with my wits and common sense.

There were hints—snide remarks here and there, ugly facial expressions whenever I spoke of the past and clues like the timber of his voice at times that caught me off guard because they reminded me so much of the Reiss I once cared for. Then there was the flagrant indication of how I had reacted whenever Reiss had been around—irrational with my skin constantly prickling from the very sight of him and the lack of decency because I couldn’t contain my sexual desires. My age, it seemed, was never of question where he was concerned; I still lusted after him like no other.

I should have known since it was the only viable reason why I’d crossed the line, committing the ultimate matrimonial betrayal. Ashton meant so much to me, and there was only one man on this planet who could make me lose my mind, as if it wasn’t made for thinking. I had been his for the taking the moment those distinct, bright green eyes had seized me.

Pure, utter embarrassment and contempt plagued my existence as I recounted the scenarios, from the moment our eyes had connected in the bar to the time I had last seen him, blissful as he walked out of here, purposely scrambling my life once more.

I felt shame at how easily persuaded I had been to commit the biggest sin a woman could ever make to her husband. More appallingly, I had neglectfully opened up about how tormented I had been in my marriage and the suffering I had endured after the guilt had settled into my soul with no intentions of letting me go and being fully free of Reiss’s ghost.

Well, he was a ghost no longer. He was truly well and alive and doing quite well for himself financially.

I recalled his look of smugness when he had delivered his revenge, his eyes ice cold as he had let me drown into with no intention of saving me. He must have found it comical in such a twisted sense when I approached him and somehow managed to trust him as I spilled all those details about my life. Craig or Reiss, or whatever his name was, was most likely having a good toast, applauding how efficaciously he had served my due sentence—guilt and being shamed, treating me like a whore like he ought to have done a decade ago.

Dealing with the consequences was inevitable. The question that hounded me was, where did I start with it? It had to start with Ashton, should it not? I had betrayed him on all accounts.

I was afraid of what this could mean, but as much as the burden of my actions had contributed to the demise of my self-respect, I couldn’t ignore the fact that things had truly not been the same with Ashton. Our marriage had been past rocky to the point that I had survived my pain into indifference. And as much as it pained me to admit it, Reiss had revitalized something inside of me.

As awful as it was to believe, he had showed me my old, passionate self that had been lost and gone ages ago. How had I forgotten what it was like to feel like everything was on fire in my body? How had I existed in such a mundane lifestyle, reassuring myself that the sadness that took over me was part of growing up and an essential process to endure a marriage? Maybe it was knowing other women in society tolerated such depressing emotional and mental state that made me easily accept my fate.

My fate had indeed changed, though. Moreover, it had shown me another path. A path that assured me it wasn’t too late to make a journey. A journey to change what had gotten me so unhappy and had stripped me of what made me who I was. And since I had brought this upon myself, there was no other way except to embrace it, even if the thought of living a life without depending on Ashton or anyone else frightened me a little. Maybe it was high time I took charge of my life and embraced the true woman within me that had been buried for far too long. A rebirth of sorts.

I could’ve spent the entire time twiddling my fingers and staring into space as I recalled him over and over in my mind; however, I knew I wasn’t fully equipped to do that yet—emotionally or mentally—. As a result, I promised to save my forlorn heartache for when I was ready to open the proverbial chest that held all of my demons. As of this instant, though, I could only tackle my compromising position of being a wife, being Mrs. Ashton Westwood.

*

Less than twenty-four hours later…

“I beg your pardon?” Ashton screeched into the phone, hurting my ear. “Divorce, Ava? Has your brain been seized by aliens, or have you gone into one of those psychics you are so fond of visiting which has caused some detrimental way for you to think, that somehow damaged your brain in the process as you both meditated? Or maybe she hypnotized you and made you extremely senseless.”

Aliens…

Psychics?

Meditations?

Hypnosis?

Right, the plot thickens. As he obviously concluded, I had gone mad. What other rational explanation was there when a divorce was mentioned from the known, sweet wife of his who didn’t usually bother with the intricate details that entailed making a decision? To him, all I did was practically spoil myself with whatever was my heart’s content.