Twisted Karma [R - NC-17] 1/?
Posted: Tue Oct 05, 2004 9:51 pm
Twisted Karma
By Andrea Sinisterra
Angst/Tragedy/Romance
Rated R / NC-17
Standard Disclaimers Apply
Author's Note: Thank the early update to Morri, who is too pushy. Jeez. Special thanks to Caliborn for her incredible beta-services and to *grumble-mumble* Morri for her most amusing comments and honest opinion on this part. Thank you, hons!
I know I posted this on the prologue, but I will post it again.
Warnings!: This story has a very dark theme; it deals with death, non-consensual sex, infidelity, abuse, though it WILL have -many- romantic moments. It is 1xR, after all.
<center>~</center>
Part 1
It was raining. She could see the buildings? outlines all around her, rising like tempestuous creatures in the gloom. The thunder lit the sky at intervals, striking a bright contrast to the darkness within her rooms. It was just another day in her life, where she would wake up to find her husband already gone, or in the midst of getting ready to depart. It was always a cold goodbye, as he kissed her forehead or her cheek, smiling faintly while he headed for the hotel?s door, both knowing they wouldn?t see each other?s faces until nightfall, or even until the next morning.
They had no roots, no home. They had lived their entire 9 years of marriage in hotel?s suites, living in the luxurious confines that were so cold and hollow. She was tired of amenities and facilities she never used, tired of the same late night talk shows, and the same routine. It was never ending, never changing; and her husband was clueless. He had no idea.
Relena had tried countless times to gouge him into accepting settlement. Wasn?t it time to start a family? She was getting old, and whenever she broached the subject he would ignore her, drowning his head further into whatever newspaper, magazine or report he had in hand. She often wondered if inside that cold, handsome exterior still resided the man she had fallen in love with. During their rare Sunday mornings together, when they would sit at the restaurant, or have their breakfast brought up to their room, she would sit in silent contemplation, watching him. The years had done nothing to him; he was still as handsome and demanding as he was the day they met. During moments like these, as they sat together while he read the paper and she drank her coffee, she reminisced of those days of years back: the fun they had together, their dreams and hopes. How they would lay together every Sunday morning, lounging as they had breakfast in bed, spilling dreams and wishes of their future.
She was a fool. Love doesn?t last an eternity. Yet, she never expected theirs to die so soon.
A flash of lightning snapped her back to reality. The evening had slowly died into the night. she walked around the rooms, turning lights on to bring some clarity to her thoughts. She had been pondering a lot lately. It was starting to give her migraines, and it was making her feel homesick.
Relena smiled as she sat down at the writing desk and reached for the phone, dialing the long string of numbers, waiting to hear her mother?s soft, warm voice. It had been a while since they?d spoken, but she felt her smile crash when the answering machine picked up instead. In no mood to leave a message, she hung up, and reached for the remote control to the TV set the suite boasted.
And it was just as every other single night for the past 9 years. She had to struggle to remember where she was, no longer keeping track of the cities she had visited, whether they were in their itinerary or not. The same talk show, the same local programming. She always ended tuning into the local news network, staring blankly at the anchorwoman.
Later that night, as Andr? finally strolled into the hotel room, at well past 1 am, Relena knew he had done it again. She snuggled deeply into the covers, bringing the coverlet over her ears, fighting to keep her breathing pattern steady so as not to alert him of her state of wakefulness. She heard the clank of the buckle of his expensive Italian leather belt as it hit the chair where he probably must have tossed it along with his pants. He must have taken his shoes off as well, as she heard him walk on silent feet about the room. He had such an intoxicating presence; she had felt it the moment he had stepped into the room: the quarters shrunk at the size of his form.
She could smell the perfume on his skin as he climbed onto the bed and wrapped his arms around her body; she could also smell the alcohol mixed in his breath as he moved her hair away and kissed her neck, the open mouthed kisses making her close her eyes. In despair or pleasure, she wasn?t sure.
?Happy birthday, love.? He whispered into her ear, tickling his tongue against the outer shell, and then sucking her earlobe into his mouth. ?I have a surprise for you.?
?You?re late. My birthday ended two hours ago.? There was no use in still pretending she was asleep; she could feel her temper rising, even knowing it would be useless against him. ?You?ve been drinking-- what kind of surprise do you call that??
There was silence, and she unconsciously cringed at what his reaction would be. She wasn?t disappointed. ?What kind of an answer is that?? he snapped, grabbing her shoulder and turning her over so he could see her face. ?Don?t you have any respect??
Relena struggled out from under him, standing a fair distance away from the bed before she laughed contemptuously. ?Respect?!? She reached for the silk robe hung over a chair, tying the belt loosely around her waist. ?You?re an unfaithful bastard. I don?t want any surprises from you. I?d rather you leave me alone.?
He was up in a second, grabbing both her wrists in one of his large hands, covering her body with his against the wall. ?Nine years and still feisty. Your mother did a very good job raising you.? He bit the side of her neck, making her gasp before she started to struggle against him. ?If I want to give you a surprise, I will give it to you, whether you like it or not.? He used his free hand to untie the sash from around her waist, spreading apart the sides of her robe. ?Didn?t you miss me?? His lips softened on her skin, trailing a path of fire up her neck, cheek and then the side of her mouth.
Relena jerked her head to the side, avoiding the contact of his lips on hers. ?It?s irrelevant. Why don?t you go screw whatever whore you were with all night??
The weight of his opened hand landed on her right cheek with a burst of pain, leaving her numb, and before she could react, he had thrown her on the bed, yanking her underwear off as he finally came to settle between her legs. ?You fucking little bitch.? He smiled when she gasped in surprise as he started moving. ?You?re my wife, and you will do as I say. Got it??
She nodded silently, turning her head away to let her tears fall? even as he continued to move within her.
It was all just part of the routine.
<center>~</center>
That very same day, the sun pouring its warmth into the room, Relena woke feeling sore and alone in bed. She started her day as usual, showering to get the filth off her skin, scrubbing herself ruthlessly as frustrated tears and sobs rocked her body.
She dressed and covered the slight bruise on her cheek with heavy foundation and powder, then prodded her skin lightly with her finger, flinching as it pounded in protest. When she was done, the bruise partially covered, she left her room and headed for the restaurant, not too anxious to be having another meal by herself.
As she sat alone at her table, a plate of fresh fruit and coffee before her, she unconsciously pulled at the collar of her turtleneck sweater, hiding the bruise his teeth had left on her skin, seconds before she felt a shadow over her.
?Is everything alright??
It was just customary concern for her as a guest, and she found herself smiling at the waiter. ?Yes, everything?s quite alright. Thank you.?
But there was a wavering in her voice that did not go unnoticed, even if he didn?t press the issue further. ?Is there anything else you?d like to order??
Relena sipped her coffee, shaking her head as she wished fervently for the man to leave. ?I?m fine.? But just as he smiled and bowed slightly at the waist, ready to leave as she had originally wanted, his name plate caught her attention and she reached out, grabbing his wrist. ?Trowa, that?s your name??
Trowa frowned at her slightly. ?Yes.?
Relena smiled, shifting uncomfortably on her seat as she realized she had no idea what to say.
After a moment of silence, he bowed again, his eyes never leaving hers. ?Have a good day.?
Relena stared at his retreating back, not quite sure what had just happened between them.
When she was done, she retreated to her room, picking up the phone as she once again tried calling her mother. At the fifth ring, just as she was about to give up and put the phone back on the receiver, Margaret?s voice picked up. Before she could help it, Relena broke down in a torrent of tears, gasping choked words of pain and despair. She hunched over the phone, running trembling fingers through her hair as she retold her sister of the night before.
?Oh, Relena.? There was honest pain in her sister?s voice as she consoled her. ?I?m so sorry. That bastard.?
They were both crying, and Relena?s tears doubled as her sister begged her to come back home. ?He doesn?t deserve you, Relena! You?ve put up with his shit for years! Why do you still insist on staying??
Relena wiped at her eyes roughly with the back of her hand. ?Because he?s my husband, Margaret! I love him!?
?Well, he has <i>such</i> a pretty way of showing it.? After a moment, Margaret sighed. ?I?m sorry. He just makes me so mad.?
?I?m so lost, Marsh. So lost. I love him so much? I don?t understand anything! And just last night, Marsh, on <i>my</i> birthday, he comes back here, obviously from being in another woman?s arms??
?He raped you, Relena!? Margaret?s voice filled with anger again; she was hissing into the phone. ?He raped you! And he cheated on you! You can?t honestly sit there and tell me he loves you! Especially that you love him still! That?s madness!?
?He?s my husband, Margaret. He?s my husband.?
?Relena, you're afraid of him. That?s no way to live. If he really loved you, he wouldn?t do the things he does! He?s killing you, Relena. And you?re a masochist for putting up with him!?
There was a deep silence that stretched for several seconds, before Margaret?s sigh broke it. ?I?m not sorry for saying that, sister. It?s the truth.?
Relena?s tears had subsided, but their tracks were still obvious on her skin. Her head jerked up at a sound. ?I have to go, someone?s at the door. Can you tell mom I called? And? thank you.?
Margaret?s words rang loudly through Relena?s head, and it was not the first time she had heard them. She knew her sister was right, she knew she had to leave him? But could she? She had no doubt Andr? would follow her wherever she chose to run to? He would find her. She knew it in her heart.
Seeing Trowa standing in the hall was not the sight she had been expecting, but neither was it unwelcome. ?What are you doing here?? Perhaps he didn?t notice, or maybe he chose not to mention it, but Relena was sure it was obvious that she had been crying. She could still feel her face wet from her tears.
?I?m not sure. Can I come in??
She knew it wasn?t wise to let him into her room, yet it was worse if some other guest saw him standing outside her door? She moved aside, and held the door wider in an open invitation.
At first she didn?t know what to say or do as they both stared at each other, so she kept herself busy by reaching into her purse to pull out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one with an intricate, silver lighter.
?I?ve never seen anyone with so much sadness in their eyes.? He didn?t smile, nor did he attempt to step closer to her; he just stood there, watching her. Studying her. ?It?s not the first time I?ve seen you by yourself.?
?Now you think you?re an expert? I don?t even know you.? She said annoyed, standing by the large windows.
?Perhaps. But you wanted me here. For what? I don?t think you even know.? He went to stand beside her, both admiring the busy city below. ?A beautiful woman like you shouldn?t be left alone? your husband surely doesn?t know what he?s doing.?
?You?re very bold to come and tell me all these things.? She said as she exhaled a long stream of smoke. Under her breath, she whispered, ?Even if they are all true.?
Trowa sighed, then turned around, heading for the door. ?I should get going. I don?t know what I was thinking.?
?Wait.? Relena turned around to look at him, a strange frown on her face. ?We?re leaving tonight.?
He came to stand in front of her, an arm?s length away, but he didn?t say a word. His eyes were intense, shadowed by the bangs of chocolate hair that fell across his forehead. He cocked his head to the side. ?So beautiful, and yet so sad.?
The moment his large, warm hand touched her cheek, she felt her insides melt, trembling under his intense, forest green stare. Rising on her toes, she closed the distance between them, sealing her lips to his in an urgent display of passion. Her hands threaded through his hair, pressing his lips harder to hers, and she almost smiled when his mouth finally opened to her seeking tongue.
Trowa?s arms remained still at his sides by sheer force of will, knowing that if he dared touch her, he would lose it completely. The thought of her, married, was a constant in his head, and the sadness in her eyes, combined with the curve of her body and lips threatened to override every sense of rationality. Her tongue was heaven, silky and smooth as it slid on his; her fingers, slim and pale, were still strong and assured as they gripped his head? Yet, it was her tears, hot and few along his cheeks what made him stop.
He gently pushed her, his hands large as they settled on her thin shoulders. ?You don?t have it in you to cheat.? He put his hand on her cheek, and he smiled when she pressed her face into it. ?When I saw you downstairs? There?s something about you. It?s not just beauty.? Her blush charmed him to the heart. He shook his head. ?I?ve seen you several times? but always by yourself. Your husband doesn?t know what he?s missing.?
Her lips thinned as she stepped away from him. ?My husband doesn?t love me. I?m sure?? Margaret?s words rang through her head? She was a blind masochist. ?I?m sure he doesn?t even know me.?
Trowa looked at her, his eyes intent on hers; he didn?t answer her statement. ?Those bruises?? He shook his head, dismissing the thought of his own sister from his head. His beautiful sister? ?Don?t let those scars bring you down? Let them make you stronger.?
?What is it about you?? But her tone was bathed in curiosity and not contempt, intrigued by this man she had just met. ?Why do you even care??
She was as innocent as Catherine had once been. Beautiful hearts. But Catherine had made the greatest mistake of all; marrying a man far older than her, a man she didn?t know well? A man who had been her final end. Now, there was only a gravestone left of her, the last remnant of his only family. His sister had fallen in love with the wrong man, and had paid dearly for it.
Trowa shook his head, clearing it from thoughts that were no longer of any use. ?Women shouldn?t be treated like this. I wouldn?t want my mother, sister, or even a friend to be mistreated by some low-life loser.? But his voice didn?t carry the firm tenor he had wanted; instead it sounded too strong and lethal? He knew it when he saw her frown. ?I should get going.?
Relena didn?t feel it was any of her business, so she didn?t press further. She saw him walk to her writing desk and write something down. When he handed her the little post-it, she smiled at it, winding her arms around him.
?If you ever need someone to talk to.?
Relena nodded through fresh tears, and as he walked to the door and then closed it behind him, she felt like she had just lost a friend.
Going to her room, she searched for her purse, hiding his phone number in one of the many pockets of her wallet, knowing that if Andr? were to find it, he would probably kill her.
<center>~</center>
Andr? came in early that night, but it was only because they had a plane to catch. She didn?t ask where they were headed since it wouldn?t make a difference. Only the scenery changed from trip to trip. Everything else was the same: the same luxury hotels, the same kind of people, and the same treatment from her husband.
She walked on numb feet as they made their way through the airport, nodding and smiling whenever Andr? would say something to her, fear in her heart that he could somehow find out about her meeting with Trowa.
Her thoughts wandered to him; she had never met a person like him before, so intuitive and caring. She feared they would never meet again; she was constantly supervised, and if her husband were to find out about his wife meeting with strange men in their room, he would be capable of doing the most atrocious things? she had no doubt in her heart he would.
Andr? never mentioned the night of her birthday; it was as if it didn?t happen. Neither did he hint at something related with Trowa. He talked nonstop about his meetings and plans, including the people they were to meet at a fund-raising ball sometime next month. He didn?t even notice the gaps of time in-between his meetings? Time he probably spent with some whore.
Relena seethed; he didn?t even have the dignity to hide it from her. He was so nonchalant about it all, not even considering he would hurt his wife. She had affronted him about it for the first time that night, and he didn?t deny it. What more proof did she need?
She looked down at her attire, frowning in disgust;, with a pressed, dark grey blazer and skirt combo suit, the skirt just about her knees, and her hair pulled tight in a French twist, she was the demure, quiet wife Andr? had picked and polished for himself. Yes, as frivolous as that may sound, that was exactly the way things were between them; he was the puppeteer in charge of his toys, the mastermind who told his peons how to act and what to wear.
She was no better than any of the women he cheated on her with. She did whatever she was told to do, dressed as he wanted her to dress, said the proper things at the correct time whenever he would meet with colleagues, taking her with him to dinners so she could charm her way into their "hearts". Andr? said she was naturally charming, and that was most beneficial to his negotiations. He even let his business partners and clients touch her, especially when they'd had more than a couple of drinks. He would call her whatever name he felt like, demeaning names his clients laughed at, names that tempted them, even welcomed them to touch her. Her knees, or arms, sometimes her hair or face, running their clumsy fingers along her skin while Andr? watched?
He always stopped them before things went too far? But not too soon to endanger his business plans.
By the time she reached the plane and took her seat by the window, her head was already pounding with the force of her migraine. She closed her eyes to block the piercing light, fervently wishing to get some quality sleep before they reached Japan and her torture would begin anew.
It was just routine.
<center>~</center>
To be continued...
By Andrea Sinisterra
Angst/Tragedy/Romance
Rated R / NC-17
Standard Disclaimers Apply
Author's Note: Thank the early update to Morri, who is too pushy. Jeez. Special thanks to Caliborn for her incredible beta-services and to *grumble-mumble* Morri for her most amusing comments and honest opinion on this part. Thank you, hons!
I know I posted this on the prologue, but I will post it again.
Warnings!: This story has a very dark theme; it deals with death, non-consensual sex, infidelity, abuse, though it WILL have -many- romantic moments. It is 1xR, after all.
<center>~</center>
Part 1
It was raining. She could see the buildings? outlines all around her, rising like tempestuous creatures in the gloom. The thunder lit the sky at intervals, striking a bright contrast to the darkness within her rooms. It was just another day in her life, where she would wake up to find her husband already gone, or in the midst of getting ready to depart. It was always a cold goodbye, as he kissed her forehead or her cheek, smiling faintly while he headed for the hotel?s door, both knowing they wouldn?t see each other?s faces until nightfall, or even until the next morning.
They had no roots, no home. They had lived their entire 9 years of marriage in hotel?s suites, living in the luxurious confines that were so cold and hollow. She was tired of amenities and facilities she never used, tired of the same late night talk shows, and the same routine. It was never ending, never changing; and her husband was clueless. He had no idea.
Relena had tried countless times to gouge him into accepting settlement. Wasn?t it time to start a family? She was getting old, and whenever she broached the subject he would ignore her, drowning his head further into whatever newspaper, magazine or report he had in hand. She often wondered if inside that cold, handsome exterior still resided the man she had fallen in love with. During their rare Sunday mornings together, when they would sit at the restaurant, or have their breakfast brought up to their room, she would sit in silent contemplation, watching him. The years had done nothing to him; he was still as handsome and demanding as he was the day they met. During moments like these, as they sat together while he read the paper and she drank her coffee, she reminisced of those days of years back: the fun they had together, their dreams and hopes. How they would lay together every Sunday morning, lounging as they had breakfast in bed, spilling dreams and wishes of their future.
She was a fool. Love doesn?t last an eternity. Yet, she never expected theirs to die so soon.
A flash of lightning snapped her back to reality. The evening had slowly died into the night. she walked around the rooms, turning lights on to bring some clarity to her thoughts. She had been pondering a lot lately. It was starting to give her migraines, and it was making her feel homesick.
Relena smiled as she sat down at the writing desk and reached for the phone, dialing the long string of numbers, waiting to hear her mother?s soft, warm voice. It had been a while since they?d spoken, but she felt her smile crash when the answering machine picked up instead. In no mood to leave a message, she hung up, and reached for the remote control to the TV set the suite boasted.
And it was just as every other single night for the past 9 years. She had to struggle to remember where she was, no longer keeping track of the cities she had visited, whether they were in their itinerary or not. The same talk show, the same local programming. She always ended tuning into the local news network, staring blankly at the anchorwoman.
Later that night, as Andr? finally strolled into the hotel room, at well past 1 am, Relena knew he had done it again. She snuggled deeply into the covers, bringing the coverlet over her ears, fighting to keep her breathing pattern steady so as not to alert him of her state of wakefulness. She heard the clank of the buckle of his expensive Italian leather belt as it hit the chair where he probably must have tossed it along with his pants. He must have taken his shoes off as well, as she heard him walk on silent feet about the room. He had such an intoxicating presence; she had felt it the moment he had stepped into the room: the quarters shrunk at the size of his form.
She could smell the perfume on his skin as he climbed onto the bed and wrapped his arms around her body; she could also smell the alcohol mixed in his breath as he moved her hair away and kissed her neck, the open mouthed kisses making her close her eyes. In despair or pleasure, she wasn?t sure.
?Happy birthday, love.? He whispered into her ear, tickling his tongue against the outer shell, and then sucking her earlobe into his mouth. ?I have a surprise for you.?
?You?re late. My birthday ended two hours ago.? There was no use in still pretending she was asleep; she could feel her temper rising, even knowing it would be useless against him. ?You?ve been drinking-- what kind of surprise do you call that??
There was silence, and she unconsciously cringed at what his reaction would be. She wasn?t disappointed. ?What kind of an answer is that?? he snapped, grabbing her shoulder and turning her over so he could see her face. ?Don?t you have any respect??
Relena struggled out from under him, standing a fair distance away from the bed before she laughed contemptuously. ?Respect?!? She reached for the silk robe hung over a chair, tying the belt loosely around her waist. ?You?re an unfaithful bastard. I don?t want any surprises from you. I?d rather you leave me alone.?
He was up in a second, grabbing both her wrists in one of his large hands, covering her body with his against the wall. ?Nine years and still feisty. Your mother did a very good job raising you.? He bit the side of her neck, making her gasp before she started to struggle against him. ?If I want to give you a surprise, I will give it to you, whether you like it or not.? He used his free hand to untie the sash from around her waist, spreading apart the sides of her robe. ?Didn?t you miss me?? His lips softened on her skin, trailing a path of fire up her neck, cheek and then the side of her mouth.
Relena jerked her head to the side, avoiding the contact of his lips on hers. ?It?s irrelevant. Why don?t you go screw whatever whore you were with all night??
The weight of his opened hand landed on her right cheek with a burst of pain, leaving her numb, and before she could react, he had thrown her on the bed, yanking her underwear off as he finally came to settle between her legs. ?You fucking little bitch.? He smiled when she gasped in surprise as he started moving. ?You?re my wife, and you will do as I say. Got it??
She nodded silently, turning her head away to let her tears fall? even as he continued to move within her.
It was all just part of the routine.
<center>~</center>
That very same day, the sun pouring its warmth into the room, Relena woke feeling sore and alone in bed. She started her day as usual, showering to get the filth off her skin, scrubbing herself ruthlessly as frustrated tears and sobs rocked her body.
She dressed and covered the slight bruise on her cheek with heavy foundation and powder, then prodded her skin lightly with her finger, flinching as it pounded in protest. When she was done, the bruise partially covered, she left her room and headed for the restaurant, not too anxious to be having another meal by herself.
As she sat alone at her table, a plate of fresh fruit and coffee before her, she unconsciously pulled at the collar of her turtleneck sweater, hiding the bruise his teeth had left on her skin, seconds before she felt a shadow over her.
?Is everything alright??
It was just customary concern for her as a guest, and she found herself smiling at the waiter. ?Yes, everything?s quite alright. Thank you.?
But there was a wavering in her voice that did not go unnoticed, even if he didn?t press the issue further. ?Is there anything else you?d like to order??
Relena sipped her coffee, shaking her head as she wished fervently for the man to leave. ?I?m fine.? But just as he smiled and bowed slightly at the waist, ready to leave as she had originally wanted, his name plate caught her attention and she reached out, grabbing his wrist. ?Trowa, that?s your name??
Trowa frowned at her slightly. ?Yes.?
Relena smiled, shifting uncomfortably on her seat as she realized she had no idea what to say.
After a moment of silence, he bowed again, his eyes never leaving hers. ?Have a good day.?
Relena stared at his retreating back, not quite sure what had just happened between them.
When she was done, she retreated to her room, picking up the phone as she once again tried calling her mother. At the fifth ring, just as she was about to give up and put the phone back on the receiver, Margaret?s voice picked up. Before she could help it, Relena broke down in a torrent of tears, gasping choked words of pain and despair. She hunched over the phone, running trembling fingers through her hair as she retold her sister of the night before.
?Oh, Relena.? There was honest pain in her sister?s voice as she consoled her. ?I?m so sorry. That bastard.?
They were both crying, and Relena?s tears doubled as her sister begged her to come back home. ?He doesn?t deserve you, Relena! You?ve put up with his shit for years! Why do you still insist on staying??
Relena wiped at her eyes roughly with the back of her hand. ?Because he?s my husband, Margaret! I love him!?
?Well, he has <i>such</i> a pretty way of showing it.? After a moment, Margaret sighed. ?I?m sorry. He just makes me so mad.?
?I?m so lost, Marsh. So lost. I love him so much? I don?t understand anything! And just last night, Marsh, on <i>my</i> birthday, he comes back here, obviously from being in another woman?s arms??
?He raped you, Relena!? Margaret?s voice filled with anger again; she was hissing into the phone. ?He raped you! And he cheated on you! You can?t honestly sit there and tell me he loves you! Especially that you love him still! That?s madness!?
?He?s my husband, Margaret. He?s my husband.?
?Relena, you're afraid of him. That?s no way to live. If he really loved you, he wouldn?t do the things he does! He?s killing you, Relena. And you?re a masochist for putting up with him!?
There was a deep silence that stretched for several seconds, before Margaret?s sigh broke it. ?I?m not sorry for saying that, sister. It?s the truth.?
Relena?s tears had subsided, but their tracks were still obvious on her skin. Her head jerked up at a sound. ?I have to go, someone?s at the door. Can you tell mom I called? And? thank you.?
Margaret?s words rang loudly through Relena?s head, and it was not the first time she had heard them. She knew her sister was right, she knew she had to leave him? But could she? She had no doubt Andr? would follow her wherever she chose to run to? He would find her. She knew it in her heart.
Seeing Trowa standing in the hall was not the sight she had been expecting, but neither was it unwelcome. ?What are you doing here?? Perhaps he didn?t notice, or maybe he chose not to mention it, but Relena was sure it was obvious that she had been crying. She could still feel her face wet from her tears.
?I?m not sure. Can I come in??
She knew it wasn?t wise to let him into her room, yet it was worse if some other guest saw him standing outside her door? She moved aside, and held the door wider in an open invitation.
At first she didn?t know what to say or do as they both stared at each other, so she kept herself busy by reaching into her purse to pull out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one with an intricate, silver lighter.
?I?ve never seen anyone with so much sadness in their eyes.? He didn?t smile, nor did he attempt to step closer to her; he just stood there, watching her. Studying her. ?It?s not the first time I?ve seen you by yourself.?
?Now you think you?re an expert? I don?t even know you.? She said annoyed, standing by the large windows.
?Perhaps. But you wanted me here. For what? I don?t think you even know.? He went to stand beside her, both admiring the busy city below. ?A beautiful woman like you shouldn?t be left alone? your husband surely doesn?t know what he?s doing.?
?You?re very bold to come and tell me all these things.? She said as she exhaled a long stream of smoke. Under her breath, she whispered, ?Even if they are all true.?
Trowa sighed, then turned around, heading for the door. ?I should get going. I don?t know what I was thinking.?
?Wait.? Relena turned around to look at him, a strange frown on her face. ?We?re leaving tonight.?
He came to stand in front of her, an arm?s length away, but he didn?t say a word. His eyes were intense, shadowed by the bangs of chocolate hair that fell across his forehead. He cocked his head to the side. ?So beautiful, and yet so sad.?
The moment his large, warm hand touched her cheek, she felt her insides melt, trembling under his intense, forest green stare. Rising on her toes, she closed the distance between them, sealing her lips to his in an urgent display of passion. Her hands threaded through his hair, pressing his lips harder to hers, and she almost smiled when his mouth finally opened to her seeking tongue.
Trowa?s arms remained still at his sides by sheer force of will, knowing that if he dared touch her, he would lose it completely. The thought of her, married, was a constant in his head, and the sadness in her eyes, combined with the curve of her body and lips threatened to override every sense of rationality. Her tongue was heaven, silky and smooth as it slid on his; her fingers, slim and pale, were still strong and assured as they gripped his head? Yet, it was her tears, hot and few along his cheeks what made him stop.
He gently pushed her, his hands large as they settled on her thin shoulders. ?You don?t have it in you to cheat.? He put his hand on her cheek, and he smiled when she pressed her face into it. ?When I saw you downstairs? There?s something about you. It?s not just beauty.? Her blush charmed him to the heart. He shook his head. ?I?ve seen you several times? but always by yourself. Your husband doesn?t know what he?s missing.?
Her lips thinned as she stepped away from him. ?My husband doesn?t love me. I?m sure?? Margaret?s words rang through her head? She was a blind masochist. ?I?m sure he doesn?t even know me.?
Trowa looked at her, his eyes intent on hers; he didn?t answer her statement. ?Those bruises?? He shook his head, dismissing the thought of his own sister from his head. His beautiful sister? ?Don?t let those scars bring you down? Let them make you stronger.?
?What is it about you?? But her tone was bathed in curiosity and not contempt, intrigued by this man she had just met. ?Why do you even care??
She was as innocent as Catherine had once been. Beautiful hearts. But Catherine had made the greatest mistake of all; marrying a man far older than her, a man she didn?t know well? A man who had been her final end. Now, there was only a gravestone left of her, the last remnant of his only family. His sister had fallen in love with the wrong man, and had paid dearly for it.
Trowa shook his head, clearing it from thoughts that were no longer of any use. ?Women shouldn?t be treated like this. I wouldn?t want my mother, sister, or even a friend to be mistreated by some low-life loser.? But his voice didn?t carry the firm tenor he had wanted; instead it sounded too strong and lethal? He knew it when he saw her frown. ?I should get going.?
Relena didn?t feel it was any of her business, so she didn?t press further. She saw him walk to her writing desk and write something down. When he handed her the little post-it, she smiled at it, winding her arms around him.
?If you ever need someone to talk to.?
Relena nodded through fresh tears, and as he walked to the door and then closed it behind him, she felt like she had just lost a friend.
Going to her room, she searched for her purse, hiding his phone number in one of the many pockets of her wallet, knowing that if Andr? were to find it, he would probably kill her.
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Andr? came in early that night, but it was only because they had a plane to catch. She didn?t ask where they were headed since it wouldn?t make a difference. Only the scenery changed from trip to trip. Everything else was the same: the same luxury hotels, the same kind of people, and the same treatment from her husband.
She walked on numb feet as they made their way through the airport, nodding and smiling whenever Andr? would say something to her, fear in her heart that he could somehow find out about her meeting with Trowa.
Her thoughts wandered to him; she had never met a person like him before, so intuitive and caring. She feared they would never meet again; she was constantly supervised, and if her husband were to find out about his wife meeting with strange men in their room, he would be capable of doing the most atrocious things? she had no doubt in her heart he would.
Andr? never mentioned the night of her birthday; it was as if it didn?t happen. Neither did he hint at something related with Trowa. He talked nonstop about his meetings and plans, including the people they were to meet at a fund-raising ball sometime next month. He didn?t even notice the gaps of time in-between his meetings? Time he probably spent with some whore.
Relena seethed; he didn?t even have the dignity to hide it from her. He was so nonchalant about it all, not even considering he would hurt his wife. She had affronted him about it for the first time that night, and he didn?t deny it. What more proof did she need?
She looked down at her attire, frowning in disgust;, with a pressed, dark grey blazer and skirt combo suit, the skirt just about her knees, and her hair pulled tight in a French twist, she was the demure, quiet wife Andr? had picked and polished for himself. Yes, as frivolous as that may sound, that was exactly the way things were between them; he was the puppeteer in charge of his toys, the mastermind who told his peons how to act and what to wear.
She was no better than any of the women he cheated on her with. She did whatever she was told to do, dressed as he wanted her to dress, said the proper things at the correct time whenever he would meet with colleagues, taking her with him to dinners so she could charm her way into their "hearts". Andr? said she was naturally charming, and that was most beneficial to his negotiations. He even let his business partners and clients touch her, especially when they'd had more than a couple of drinks. He would call her whatever name he felt like, demeaning names his clients laughed at, names that tempted them, even welcomed them to touch her. Her knees, or arms, sometimes her hair or face, running their clumsy fingers along her skin while Andr? watched?
He always stopped them before things went too far? But not too soon to endanger his business plans.
By the time she reached the plane and took her seat by the window, her head was already pounding with the force of her migraine. She closed her eyes to block the piercing light, fervently wishing to get some quality sleep before they reached Japan and her torture would begin anew.
It was just routine.
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To be continued...
