Chapter 15: Chapter 15

“We both grew immensely frustrated with the notion of being non-voluntarily coerced into this arranged marriage. Back then, I had you, and she had someone else in her life. It was rattling arduous for us to be forced to leave our partners behind. However, there was absolutely nothing we could have done to avert our set-in-stone fate. So we got married and moved in as husband and wife after taking all the necessary steps.” He sneers bitterly at that and bitterly smirks as his visage conforms to ice, as he adds. “We began our hell marriage full of rancor and resentment towards each other and everything in general. We blasted each other over and over for not doing enough to stop this fucking marriage.” He stops.

His anger is rising up. The bitterness is escalating. So, they tried?

“So, you both tried to prevent this?” My curiosity speaks for me.

“Yes, and I believe we both gave it our all. But all our exertions hit a hard rock. Our business was going through a rough crisis. The economy was, and still is, pretty bad right now. Businesses are closing down day in and day out. Finding investors isn’t easy at all, and we have used almost all our resources to sustain our empire. But that was not enough. So, stumbling upon an interested partner for a dying empire felt like a miracle. We had to bow to all their demands.” He plainly explains, with pain registered in his voice.

“And a marriage alignment was the only way?” I implore, my mind spinning in high gear, because wasn't becoming partners a sufficient guarantee of security? If they had needed further assurance, they could have demanded something different, such as a personal asset as collateral, right? Was it really necessary to bind two souls that had no affection whatsoever for each other and subject them to this mystery? Beh! I'm just ruminating, though. Still, it makes sense, right?

“It was the only solid assurance, according to them. And they also had this unhinged idea of merging the two families.” Liam exclaims faintly, the tinge of bitterness still so heavy in his tone.

Yeah! I get that. That is how the affluent operate; as long as it is convenient to them, they will make a mountain out of a molecule in order to obtain their goals. Furthermore, establishing bonds with those of equal pedigree to them is equally vital and paramount as the air they breathe. But then again, was this alliance unfeignedly obligatory? Just my not-so-authentic thinking at work, though, because what the hell do I know about the ways of the rich? Trust me, I may be thinking that I am a know-it-all because of who is involved here, but what do I know about managing a company, much less an empire? What do I know about forming and strengthening ties? Nothing! Absolutely nothing! So perhaps I should refrain from passing too much judgment? But even so...

“We tried our best to find a solid ground to make this work.” Liam speaks, preventing me from banging my head too much with things that I have no concrete idea about. “I trust we did really try to even just get along. But things only got worse day by day—even holding a simple, decent conversation has been a dead fail. We just can’t seem to get along or agree on anything. We argue all the time when a dialogue breaks, even on the tiniest things. I don’t know, Lynn. This feels like a lifetime in jail, and I am so tired of it.” He defeatedly whimpers, and his weak voice breaks my heart into a thousand pieces. This poor soul is wallowing in pure mystery.

I get him, right? I mean, can you imagine bearing all this mystery for two freaking years? And until when? Marriages are eternal, right? They vowed that, I presume, at their wedding. So they are tied to this web of mystery for life? Gosh! For the nth time, who the fuck came up with the fucking absurdity of arranged marriages again? Men, can anything else suck more than this?

Hang on!

If they cannot even hold a common dialogue, if common simple talk is impossible for them, as he says, what about the romance and all the marital entitlement stuff? Don’t get wrong here, okay? It’s just my common sense at work. I mean, you get what I am thinking, right? If they cannot even have a proper conversation, how will they ignite the chemistry, the feelings, and, you know, romance? Please forgive my earnest curiosity, but...

“So, with all these odds, Liam, how do you manage to live as a married couple? I mean, you two are husband and wife besides everything else. How do you guys... um... aah. I mean…” Ahem! What was I to ask again?

“Conjugal rights and romance?” He breaks the query for me, leaving me with my cheeks burning with redness. Gosh!

“Mh.” That is all I can afford to utter alongside a lugged nod.

He smirks, which, like romance here, makes absolutely no sense at all. Like he…

“I have never touched her!”

“HUH?!” I almost scream my disbelief and shock out, my heart thumbing twofold with a weird rhythm, and something throbs between my legs. I had to press my thighs tightly together at that out-of--the -blue sensation.

‘Cum your immoral arousal down, Lynda! For fucks sake! You don’t have to be so axiomatically patent that the idea of his sexual thirstiness excites all the hormones in you!’ My mind howls at me, and I battle hard to compose myself as soon as I can, but I was too late. The way he is ogling me conveys that he clearly took in all my unwarranted euphoric raptures at his confession.

Shit! How embarrassing! The dude doesn’t need this. He needs someone to understand him and the hell he is going through, not a horny bitch who will jubilate in his sufferings, for God’s sake!

Ahem!

“I mean, what did you say again?” I speak, cloaking my glee, but I am afraid that my heart is beating too loudly for my liking. Maybe the echoes are reaching his ears; that’s why he is wearing a smirk. It’s a tiny one, but traceable anyway.

Oh, my heart, can you behave?

“You heard it right, and I get why you reacted that way!” He remarks, making me swallow hard as the nothingness chokes my throat.

“S-O-RR-Y?!” My cheeks conform to a bright red tomato right now. I am burning pretty bad and blushing like a sweet sixteen in heat.

He saw my reaction. Omg! He might be thinking so rottenly of me right now. Goodness me!

“Did you think I would have had sex with you if I was happy with my wife?” He queries, and that stings my heart, a combo of the sentiments of the sweet sins we swam in back at my house flooding in.

Damn! I should have sensed it from the start. He isn’t an immoral jerk; he never was—the one thing I loved so much about him. And the respect he has for relationships and for himself as well. He has never been a dickwhore. If he is with you, then he is with you and no other bitch. Why didn’t I think of this possibility? So that explains why he was thirsty, sweet beast, huh? He had come from dry land. And he poured all his two-year hunger out on me. My!

“Well, the thing is, Liam, things happened way too quickly for me to have time to think.” I mumble, still pondering how he managed the dry spell for two good years with a woman beside him. Gosh! That is one freaking hell of torture!

“There you have it. We never had sex.” He affirms, and my heart throbs again.

“How possible is that? I mean, she is practically your wife. You sleep in the same room and on the same bed.”

“No. Not on the same bed. We sleep in separate beds. There are two beds in our room.” He drowses me into more stupor. Well, this is pretty serious. It’s dumbfounding. I am appalled. I am wordless about all these new brainstorming disclosures. Like, hell! This is real hell! “When we realized that things would not work between us, I thought of a way to prevent things from getting out of control. I made Mitch and I sign another contract that only she, I, and our lawyer know about.”

An electrical shock slaps me! I jerked my face toward his.

Another contract?