Page 38 of The Rejected Wife

I take another sip of my whiskey. She must have known Knox is my brother. So, why would she agree to this marriage? I’m not going to presume that it’s so she could be close to me. Perhaps, she was inspired by revenge. Maybe she’s trying to get back at me for asking her to leave that day—but no. My instinct tells me she wouldn’t do that. Even if, after the way I asked her to leave, she probably hates me.

And I haven’t contacted her since. I've been too caught up in the changes Serene has brought about in my life.

I pull out my phone and navigate to the picture of the two of us I saved from the social media feed of The Sp!cy Booktok. I did it in a moment of weakness. When thoughts of her crowded my mind and I wondered if I’d imagined it all.

Seeing us together in the picture reassures me. She may not be with me, but she’s out there somewhere. That’s enough. Ithasto be enough. For now. But it makes me miss her even more.You could call her. You could explain to her…What? What am I going to tell her?

What could make up for the fact that I asked her to leave hours after I all but hinted to her that I saw her in my life on a more permanent basis? That I was deeply attracted to her. That I felt connected to her. That… I still want her. I could explain that I haven’t called her because I haven’t felt ready. I was still adjusting to Serene’s presence and how it changed me and my life.

I could tell her I needed time to figure things out and sort through my feelings about her. That I was still trying to work things out in my head.

I could ask her why she’s engaged to Knox. I don’t, for a second, believe the two of them have any feelings for each other. I saw how Knox looked at his assistant, even if he thought he was hiding it. And Arthur made it clear, it's an arranged marriage, and surely, she deserves better than that?

She deserves a man who loves her, adores her, and who’ll take care of her. A man like… Me? Fuck. This is screwed up.

I click out of the screen and onto the internet. I navigate to the social media platform of The Sp!cy Booktok. I scroll through the pictures until I come to the one Gio took of Priscilla and me. I take in our smiles. How excited Priscilla seemed. I recall how thrilled she was that I'd brought her to the bookstore. How her breathing hitched when I put my arm around her and pulled her close for the picture. How her scent drove me crazy. I close my eyes and recall how she felt in my arms. All feminine curves and softness. How I had such a raging boner, I prayed it wouldn’t show up in the picture.

And thinking of how much I wanted her, how hot it was when I made her come, my cock extends in my pants. It’s a relief to know that, while I'm a father, I can still feel desire. My longing for her hasn’t abated. And perhaps, seeing her with my brother has served as a wake-up call. The fact is, I never forgot about her. I download the photo and save it to my phone.

I might still be learning to be a good father, but maybe, that's something I'll spend a lifetime learning. I might still be trying to navigate my way through the emotions Priscilla evokes in me. But now that I’ve seen her again, I realize how much I miss her. How much I want her. How much I need her. Question is, what am I going to do about it?

20

Priscilla

I am the hero of my story.

-Cilla’s Post-it note

"Are you okay?” Zoey looks at me over her cup of brew. “You don’t look okay."

"I’m okay." I dip my head to avoid my friend’s scrutiny and take a sip of the chai I ordered. We’re at the Fearless Kitten, our favorite coffee shop in Primrose Hill, run by Zoey’s friend Skylar, where we agreed to meet.

I’m partial to coffee, but she ordered this particular concoction for me. I took a sip and the flavors bounced off my tongue.

English breakfast tea, star anise, cinnamon, nutmeg, topped off with frothed milk, and then, something bitter, which elevates the taste to being electric. "Whoa, what is this?" I glance down into the frothy concoction like I can discern the contents. "What did you order me?"

"A dirty chai tea latte," she says in a sly voice.

"Adirtychai tea latte?" I take another sip. Yep, it definitely has a sting at the end. A bite which lifts my entire mouth. "How is that different from a normal chai tea?"

"It’s got a dash of espresso," she says in a conspiratory tone.

I shoot her a surprised look. "A dash of espresso? In my chai tea?"

"Nice, huh?"

"That’s the one new thing I learned today." I manage a small smile.

She chuckles. "I remember, you did that in university, too."

"Some habits—" I shrug.

"And you still have Post-it notes with inspirational quotes stuck all over your room?"

I shake my head. "I’ve restricted it to the surface of my refrigerator."

She laughs.

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