Reunion with My Billionaire Ex

Love That Hurts

Love That Hurts

Maurice's POV,

“Just choose any.” He persisted.

“I don’t feel like watching the movie. I am not sick, just tired and there is so much I have to do. We can do this someday else.”

“Alright.” I nodded to my amusement. “I won't force you in it. Let’s go,” he held my hand, “I'll drop you behind.”

“Hm…” he took the first step. “Wait!” I pulled his hands, “let’s watch it.”

“So indecisive. Hope it’s not that time of the month.”

“I want to see it now. Do you have any problem?” He grimed as I spoke. “What??”

“I forget how bossy you can be.”

~ Popcorn on my lap, white straw in my mouth ready to slurp on some iced drink, I was ready to take on the world of cringy romance. Fingers crossed waiting for a good script. This writer is not someone I've ever known much of. All I expect is not to be part of those toe-curling, cringy love scenes. But isn’t that what all romantic comedies are? A mix of cringe and dreamy romance concocted together with a hint of emotions in the end. The perfect and proven formula for this hugely successful blockbuster. I must have chosen the other movie.

“Popcorn?” he offered, that was already mine. I didn’t bother to eat at all.

“Yeah!!!” my eyes were jammed on the screen just waiting for something to happen. For it to begin.

~ There it was…. Olive heard footsteps stepping down the creaky wooden stairs. Tak… tak… sharper and sharper every second. Crisp and contained. But now, it suddenly halted. His steps cemented on the door of his bedroom on the third floor. Assuming his presence nearby, her breath hitched and her heartbeat almost dropped as the lowly mist of his wonder cologne hit her senses. He still smelled the same, manly and fresh. She was trying her best to hold her breath. Adam cannot know how desperate she was for him to hide from him. Her knees began wobbling and her eyes turned bloody blurry when the image of him breaking down in tears appeared in front of her eyes. The tears just wouldn't stop dropping on the satin of her dress, as the guilt took over her again.

“What are you doing?” Adam cleared his throat, glancing at the red on the floor dressed in his sexy, crisp tux and black leather boots. “I can see you,” he stated after a long string of no replies from the known intruder.

“I'm hiding, can't you see?” spluttering out, with her sneak head from the crunched corner, she couldn’t convince her eyes to meet his fiery ones. She was shattering at all steps, trembling, even. She practiced it day and night, ‘forgive me, loves me again, but still, it’s unfathomable for her to speak it out loud. She can't turn back the time. It was strange for her ears and lips to speak, there was too much self-respect in between for that. Three years, 1095 days, 10950 times she had to imagine telling him this, "love me". Why is it always easier to lie than to be honest with oneself? She was ashamed of how things ended between them, how she f****d up and thought he betrayed her, leaving no room for even a decent explanation. Three years and she still can't see him in the eyes with honesty for a split second.

“What from?” His voice grew lower. It might kill him, seeing her back after days of closing his eyes to her memories. He might die and she wouldn't even realize it was her he ever loved, it was her he wanted to stay in this world with.

“You.”

“In that dress…” strictly, he pointed at the bottom hem of her red ball gown, crawling behind her on the floor. “Frankly speaking, red isn’t good when you want to play hide and seek.” Especially when it’s bloody red.

“Good lord! It’s not funny.” she gasped, stepping out into the light, straightening her ridiculously humongous fabric in front and her hair on the back. “I should go.” Picking up her heels off the ground, she exclaimed, turning to the balls of her feet.

“Yeah, you should go. There is nothing for you here anymore.” he stepped forward, closer to her trembling body.

“Don’t hate me so much.” ‘Because I love you so hard that sometimes my body feels weak under my crazy feelings, my eyes seem small at the times I cry, my life is smaller than the guilt I cater. Don’t love me, but don’t hate me either.’

You can't hate someone you’ve once loved. Never. Where there was care once, there can never be a place for hatred or despair. You just won't care anymore about their lives. What do they do or how do they live? But if you still care for all these things, you haven’t yet gotten over them at all.

This movie goes on the principles of love.

But then again, it’s not like I am a love guru.

“Why did you come here?” he broadly asks.

“I didn’t know it was your house?” she hesitated, face slapping herself hard for such a stupid comeback.

“It was mine when you were naked on just this bed,” he pointed out, on the creaking furniture spent most of their night doing all the physical stuff, “mine when you broke up with me,” his lips stretched, “and mine when you married off my brother. I don’t know what your problem is, but, guess it’s hard to pronounce, so you are still trying to avoid it after so many years. I can't put up with this. You had better leave at this instant.”