Fᴏʀ Hɪꜱ Sᴀᴋᴇ | ✔

chapter five | where he's coming in terms with some crazy realisations

Edward looked at Emily, shocked at his own admission that the faceless woman in his thoughts was none other than her, the one woman he had married in his entire life, who, gratefully, was also the only woman he had kneeled for, and yet also the only woman who could make him kneel on his words, and more, again.

Overwhelmed with this discovery and before realizing what he was doing, Edward took hold of Emily's arm and pulled her forward. She skidded on her steps before her palms fell flat on his hard chest and her mouth fell open in surprise.

His fingers urgently found her cheekbone, his hands curling affectionately around her face. With breaths coming in rasps, he searched for the release from these overwhelming emotions suddenly brewing inside his chest, twisting and churning painfully.

Or perhaps they've been there all along but he was too much of a coward and stickler to ever think he could subject himself to that pain of feeling some kind of mere affection other than friendship for his best friend.

But he couldn't have been more wrong before and all his efforts of ignorance and running after superficial happiness were coming back to bite at him now with full force than ever.

So much that he was sure he had almost lost even the bare minimum of what he didn't even deserve, to be honest.

Emily Willow's friendship.

His marriage. And the utter horror of seeing the only woman he didn't ever wish to hurt turns into his ex-wife.

And all the times they had been happy in their marriage, where he was not only happy but also felt the most content man when he went to bed each night.

And now that bleak dot of happy memories, their marriage, their home, their friendship, their relationship as husband and a wife - not only didn't even exist but was more on the verge of burning him alive than anything he ever had to face in his life.

How he regretted each moment of his foolishness with every fibre of his being. How he would do anything, anything, to get back to that phase life again and make amends so that he would never have to face himself in the mirror each day - with shame, guilt, regret, misery, desperation and longing.

As his thoughts turned to a more dangerous direction, he trapped her waist in his demanding hands, his fingers curling possessively at the curve of her hips. He closed his eyes in the damn efforts to calm his feelings down lest he should do what he shouldn't be doing to Emily now that they weren't married anymore, or bloody hell, what he shouldn't be doing - to her - even during the marriage which wasn't on real terms.

He shifted his grip reluctantly upward, from her hips, in the event of not frightening her with the intensity of his desire.

Emily whimpered in his arms as his thumb grazed the satiny soft skin of her cheeks, his gaze entirely focused on that feeling of touching her so close, so real, so warm and responsive, and yet she seemed so far, far from his reach.

They were standing more in proximity than ever and yet, they couldn't have been more far apart with the differences lying between them like a thorn poking and tearing apart his inhibitions of being just a friend with Emily.

He just couldn't get enough of her, even now with her soft breath fanning his knuckles. He curled them tightly in a fist to prevent himself from pinning her against the nearest solid obstacle possible and having his way with her.