Complicated Bliss

Chapter 5

Mabel stood at the edge of the ceremony, her gaze circling the room as the last notes of the wedding march melted away into the air. The weight on her shoulders finally fell away, and she hauled on a smile as false as the whole day. Inwardly, her belly roiled in a sea of disquiet. The show was over; the audience was gone, but the tension remained, wrapping itself around her like a dress two sizes too small.

Her father offered brief goodbyes as they stepped outside into the fading light. The driver waited by the car, his door open wide, but to her surprise, Williams was already there too, waiting. His eyes were about as warm as the marble of the grand hotel behind him.

Mabel huddled instinctively further into the corner of the car where she could wrap herself in the protection of smallness. Williams leaned back; his bulk squeezed silence from the space. She could look out of the window at a world that was a blur and find relief in the silence. There was nothing to say-nothing now, likely ever.

Her mind continued to stray until a flutter of irritation sparked when she became aware that Williams was hunched over his phone, its glow casting an unnatural shine on his features. It dissipated just about as fast as it arrived; after all, he was her husband now, whether she liked it or not.

When they finally arrived at one of his posh hotels, she held her breath in awe of the facility: high gates, manicured lawns, and a building that spoke volumes about money and status. Then there were the staff who greeted them, doffing their hats and murmuring congratulations. She hardly noticed any of them, however, as eyes feasted on the wonderful staircase spiraling upwards, promising seclusion from prying eyes.

Lost in her thoughts, the steaming caught Mabel off guard, and she tumbled forward down the steps. A scream escaped her lips and instinctively peeled from her lips, "Williams!"

But he was already too forward, disappearing up the stairs.

"Ahh!" she cried out again as she hit the ground hard. She looked up, expecting him to help, but his face flashed with irritation instead.

"For God's sake" he grumbled, falling to his knees beside her. "Be more careful next time." His thinnest grip pulled her to her feet, his tenseness filtering through the touch.

Her arm instinctively wrapped around his neck, her heart racing as it hung in a cross between embarrassment and undeniable attraction. Her palm rested against the firm muscles of his chest; the steady thrum of his heartbeat reminded her of the life they had now shared.

"Just get on with it," he growled, all the while already walking away without so much as a backward glance. Mabel said nothing, her gaze tracing the hard planes of his jaw and the cool reserve that cloaked the man she barely knew.

As they stepped into their suite, Williams' room was an overindulgence beyond that to which her eyes were accustomed. "This is the bathroom," Williams said coldly, gesturing to a door. "Clean yourself up," he added, disappearing behind another doorway.

With a heavy heart, Mabel let out a deep sigh as the bridal gown weighed upon her movements and thoughts. She went into the washroom with a heavy heart, the bridal gown felt like an oppressive prison.

Mabel unwrapped herself from the confining robe, her mind wandered back to the day her father had dragged her into this unloving marriage.

This was never her choice of life, yet a design from others. The urge to break free tugged at her, and opening the bathroom door, she saw something that caught her interest.

A sign glowed invitingly in the corner of her vision: "PRIVATE POOL." Yet again, she hesitated, yet something deep inside pushed her forward.

As she went into the pool area, loud and unmistakable screams reverberated across it-of pleasure, rather than fear. The sound made her smile; good, Rose had finally found someone, she thought. Then, of course, came reality: Rose making out by the pool? That seemed cheap, even to her.

Mabel had told Rose to find a boyfriend, but she really hadn't expected this. Peering through the shadows, her breath caught at the sight of Rose passionately kissing someone.

Poised to startle them with her presence, Mabel froze as realization came crashing over her like a deluge of ice-cold water. The man Rose was kissing -it was Williams.

Her heart clenched painfully as she hid behind a nearby locker, her breathing suspended. She had memorized every inch of Williams' body, and there was no mistaking him-on their wedding night, with her best friend. How could they do this to her?

"Mabel would kill us if she saw us, babe," Rose moaned, oblivious to her friend's presence.

"Like she'd ever catch us. She is the third wheel in all this," Williams returned confidently and with enough arrogance.

Her stomach had dropped as she felt betrayed by the two people in whom she trusted most in the world. Tears welled in her eyes, and her heart broke into pieces. She knew she could never pick up.

"Mabel will never suspect a thing," Rose laughed.

Mabel was paralyzed, unable to move or breathe. She wanted to run to them, wanted to scream; as she started to turn into the pool of light, a strange hand wrapped around her and tugged her back into the shadows.

Standing next to her was a tall, rugged man who indicated by the placing of his finger to his lips that she should be quiet. Mabel buried her face into his chest, sobbing wildly. He held her tight, rubbing his hand in soothing strokes down her back to comfort her in the storm that raged inside.

They remained in the dark, waiting for ages until the pool area finally came to a semblance of stillness.

"Are they gone?" Mabel whispered, her voice barely audible.

"I think so," he said in a low, even voice-an anchor to her storm-tossed world.

"I cannot stay here," she whispered. "Please, just get me out."

"Where do you want to go?" he asked, a hint of concern stitching his question.

"Anywhere," she mumbled, desperation thick in her voice. "Just take me away from here."

They ran through the hotel like their lives depended on it, her heart galloping against her chest like a jackrabbit until finally, they reached the parking lot. He quickly opened the passenger side, all the while making certain no one was watching while she slid with ease into the sedan. His hands slightly shook as he secured his seatbelt, his face unreadable.

Mabel couldn't get a good look at him until he climbed into the driver's seat. There, dark hair framed his face while eyes of piercing blue reflected concern and curiosity.

"Where are you going?" He asked once more, a trace of impatience in his tone.

"Anywhere," she said, shaking. "Just away from here."

He lifted an eyebrow, and his lips tugged upwards in a barely perceived smile. "That is not specific at all," he teased softly.

In one second, anger replaced the compassion on Mabels' face. She did not want anyone's pity; she just wanted out. "Your place," she gruffly said.

His eyes widened a fraction in surprise. "My place? Are you sure?"

"Anywhere you're going is fine," she insisted, her voice growing stronger.

He sighed and nodded, turning the car toward his home. The ride was silent, save for the occasional sniffle from Mabel as the weight of the night bore down on her.

When they finally arrived at his mansion-an excessively large estate beyond her imagination, he turned to her and had his face full of concern. "Are you sure you don't want to go home? Or maybe a hospital?"

"No," she said in a whisper, her voice hoarse from crying.

He hesitated and gave way. "All right," he said softly. "If you ever want to talk, I am here to listen."

"Thanks," she whispered back in return as they entered his house. He led her to the couch and handed her a glass of water. Her hands were shaking while she took it; her emotions still lay raw.

He sat down beside her and laid a comforting arm across her shoulder. "What happened?" he asked, his tone as smooth and level as silk. "Why were you crying?"

Mabel couldn't bring herself to say a word. The words clung to her throat, too painful to utter. She shook her head as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.

Feeling her distress, he got up. "I'm going to freshen up. It's been quite a long day," he said as he disappeared into the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he returned, wrapped only in a towel. His eyes registered surprise when he found Mabel standing in his room.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, astonished. "Do you want something?"

"Are you married?" burst forth from Mabel, her eyes then burning.

He blinked, taken aback by her question. "No," he replied slowly. "Why are you asking?"

"Do you have a girlfriend?" she pressed, desperation creeping into her voice.

"No," he replied with firmness and genuineness in his voice.

"Would you like to have s*x with me?" She asked audaciously, before she knew it, the words had escaped her.