VERTIGO

VI

• Silas •

Serephina sat opposite me, fidgeting incessantly with the hem of her skirt, her fingers trembling slightly.

I swallowed, coming extremely close to encasing her soft hands with mine, asking her if she was okay.

But I couldn't.

I wouldn't.

"Why are you wearing your sunglasses inside, Serephina?" I asked her as I crossed one leg on top of the other, watching her curiously.

"Would you like me to take them off?"

Yes, so I can marvel at your beauty, so I can lose myself again and again inside your golden eyes.

"That wasn't my question." I pointed out.

She paused a moment, before shakily removing her oversized Chanel shades, her eyes red and inflamed.

She had been crying.

But why?

I looked away, unable to offer her any kind of salvation. My mind restless as I tried to figure out what the hell was going on in that mind of hers.

"You didn't remember." Her voice cold and angry.

What the hell was she talking about?

Wordlessly, she reached into her bag, drawing out a small silver frame as she held it up.

And the penny drops.

It was the first scan of our unborn son, our unborn son who was bought into this world dead.

"Two years." I breathed, feeling the beads of sweat forming across my forehead as the cabin echoed my wife's small, choked sobs.

"You told me you would never forget him, you told me we would never forget him!" She cried as I gave her an impassive glare.

"Compose yourself. I don't want my family seeing you like this."

The look on her face mirrored that of a woman who had just been slapped square across the face, with no restraint.

She swallowed, opting to remain silent as she diverted her attention to the window, silent tears falling down her soft cheeks, like little glass diamonds.

I'd half expected them to fall to the ground with a tinkle.

• • •

An hour had passed painstakingly slowly as I exited the chopper, my wife beside me as the others followed suit.

Serephina and I took a seat inside one of the cars my father had sent as we drove to my parents villa.

"You shouldn't have worn black, Serephina." I commented as the car pulled up outside, the driver exiting.

"I will wear as much fùcking black as I desire or so help me God," she snapped as if she had been waiting her entire life to bite me back. "Tell me what colours I should or shouldn't be wearing again, I'll shove a knife so far up that uptight selfish little ass of yours, you'll be crying for your mama."

I stared at her, dumbfounded, feeling the blood rush straight to my còck as those threatening words left her luscious lips; God, my wife was a vision when she was pìssed.

"Sort your goddamn díck out, Silas," she scoffed, running her long fingers along the bulge in my suit pants. "Even after you no longer desire me, I still control that còck of yours. Men."

Well, that snapped me out of it.

Even after I no longer desired her?

God, if only she knew how from the truth that was, I thought as she got out of the car.