She Approved the Split He Fell Apart Novel

127 Lashing Out

Scarlett’s POV

“No, thanks,” Noticing Ava’s stare I add, “I have to go and guard my plunder.”

Jack Fuller left the table when Ava teared up at her prince gulping in sweat. Anna Fuller sat through the dinner with us, mostly out of manner before she left the moment she was allowed to.

But not Ava. She stayed, and apparently, she had words for him, too.

It’s been a long day, and I need to make sure I have a bed to sleep in for the night. I wouldn’t be too surprised if Ava bought Alfred to mess up the room instead of cleaning.

“I’ll walk you to your room then,” He offers jokefully, adding before I could say no, “Or you’d rather talk about our deal here?”

“Seb…” Ava murmurs timidly as she approaches.

I swing off his hand, looking at him coldly to wait for his decision. I know what his decision would be. Ava knows too. The only one who doesn’t seem to know is him.

Ava nails her eyes on Sebastian, and he nails his on me. I leave. Love is a game big enough for only two, and I no longer want to play with them.

He is not stopping me this time.

Alfred did a good job with Ava’s room. He cleaned out all her traces. Almost like she has not lived here. To make me feel at home maybe, he even moved some of the old things in from the attic. I’m actually surprised that the Fullers kept them.

A thick album with a unicorn on the pick cover — my taste when I was too young to see the distance in my “parents‘ eyes“. I put my finger on

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the cover, trying to decide whether to look at my most precious memory from when I hadn’t found out the true color of my family, or just burn it.

“May I take a look?”

I close my eyes, and Sebastian pulls the album out from under my finger gently. He followed me up. I know I can upset Ava easily now, when Sebastian suddenly is hell–bent on maintaining our marriage; I know if I so much just nod, I can have the man I have wanted for years, at least on the surface.

But it’s just not the same.

He is not the boy who saved me anymore. There is ten years of hatred between us. And I’m not that helpless little girl either. I am too broken to even consider loving him again. Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

“You ditched Ava,” I say as a statement, and going through the album, Sebastian quickly puts it down as he explains almost in haste–

“I told her I need to keep a distance from her, that was all.”

I turn around and look at him: “You think bullying her makes me happy?”

“Does it not?” He answers with a question.

“Is that why you are here? Sebastian Knight? You indulged me in wracking her room, you sat with me on the dinner table instead of her, and announced me as your wife in front of her. All to make me happy?”

“I did those things because they are the right things to do,” Sebastian finally puts away that innocent smile, “I can see that you are not happy, but I don’t know why–”

“Because it shouts at me how much you hated and tormented me!” I can’t raise my voice when the sourness kicks in, “It tells me that you knew exactly what you were doing to me when you sat next to her on

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dinners, when you demanded ME to forgive when she broke MY stuff, and when you called me your wife today more than all the times you have done that in the past five years added! And now, you expect me to be grateful that you are doing right by me after you hurt me on purpose over and over again?!”

Sebastian freezes at my outburst, pain fills his eyes but I’m not feeling guilt. The pain he feels now is nothing compared to what he has been doing to me. Where was he when I was in pain, waiting for him alone while he was out there painting Ava as his mistress over my dignity?!

“I don’t care what you are trying to do or why you are doing this,” I tell him slowly, word after word, “I, don’t, want, you, anymore!”

He stands there with a hurtful look. He tries to say things but fails time after time. I thought I finally pushed him to his limit, so when he raised his hand I closed my eyes in fear.

Long silence.

When I finally look at him, he barely hides away the pain in his eyes. He sighs with a bitter smile, rubbing my cheek gently with his thumb: “You have every right to hate me, and I deserve every word. So why are you crying, silly?”

In the end, he left, leaving the album open to a page where me and Ava wore the same dress.