6. PEANUTS, just the thing I need.

36.2K 2K 144
                                    

Harieth

Delicately, I yawned, covering my mouth with the back of my hand before eventually blinking several times to revive myself from the horror I was presently living. The lady performing on stage heightened her notes and my brows slightly furrowed at how high she could go. My ears felt like they were going to explode. Slightly, I shift my eyes to Christian who sat still, eyes focused on the performing artists on stage. No expression drew across his face. It was hard to tell if he was enjoying this or equally as irritated and bored as I was at the moment. In the end, I looked away from him and down to the audience beneath us. They did say the balcony view was much better but I think I would have preferred sitting down there. Why? Honestly, I don't know. I just think it would be much better. Well, everyone seemed to be enjoying the show except me which would make me a little odd at the moment. I wish I could get up and just walk out of this place but then, everyone would notice and our purpose for coming here in the first place might also be ruined. Anyways, I decided to pass away the time by taking a look at every detail of the hall, starting from the ceiling and to the curtains. My eyes went three-sixty degree and only stopped on Christian.

He stared at me for a while without any expression on his face. He made it impossible for me to guess what was going on in his mind. Slightly, I cease my brows at him, the insides of me screaming for him to just say whatever that was on his mind but instead, he did the opposite. He shifted his eyes back to the performer without uttering a single word. He must really think being all mysterious was some kind of sexy trick. My brows furrowed further as I look away from him. God, he's annoying.

Finally, it was all over and we were to head to what seemed like a little reception including most of the high society guests and possibly to congratulate the main performer of that evening. Honestly, I just wanted to go home. Suddenly, I felt a touch on my hand causing me to instantly shift my eyes to him whilst he locks my left arm with his right arm. I stare at him in surprise. Can he really touch me whenever he pleases? His eyes shift to mine. No emotion was seen.

"Smile." He stated in what also seemed like an order. For some reason, I felt too startled to say anything and so I just walked alongside him.

"Christian Hendrix." The voice pushes me back to reality and I managed to put up a smile as we approached the owner of the voice. They shake hands and he introduces his wife. I found myself expecting Christian to introduce me as well. Well, he did.

"This is Harieth Gryffin. Rockwell Gryffin's daughter." He introduced and I slightly look up to him, wondering if that was it. There was definitely more to the introduction like I'm his soon-to-be wife.

"Miss Gryffin." The man calls and I shift my eyes back to him with a wide smile on my face. I notice as he stretches his hand for mine and I accept it and watch as he slightly bends, placing a light kiss on the back of my hand. As he looks back up to him, I maintain the smile as if everything was perfect.

"Perhaps, you two are on a date." The man states which also seems like a question. Deep down, I wonder if Christian was going to answer that.

"Oh don't tease them dearly." His wife states with a warm smile on her face. For the first time, I took a good look at her. She seemed ordinary but her manner of speaking and good etiquette said otherwise plus, she was a high society member.

The rest of the night seemed to go on like that. Walking alongside Christian, smiling, nodding, delicately laughing and watching as he talks business for a few seconds; In general, I was exhausted. Finally, I excused myself and headed to the washroom.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror for a while, barely recognising myself.

"What am I doing here?" I questioned my reflection. I could feel my original self slowly slipping away. Can I really do this? Can I really pretend to be what I'm not? Can I really become Christian Hendrix's wife? Can I bear to endure his rudeness for the rest of my life? Can I simply take this on?

A sigh escapes my lips and I shut my eyes for a second as to gather my thoughts. In the end, slowly, I open them once more to meet my reflection.

"You can do this Harieth Gryffin. You can do this." I encourage myself and once I felt a little empowered, I stood straight, took out my lipstick from my purse and dabbed a little more on my lips, lightly slap my cheeks to stay awake then get one last good glimpse of my reflection before I was on my way out.

Once back in the room, Immediately, I caught sight of Christian mingling as usual with a few guests and I know I'm supposed to walk back to him but I felt glued to the spot. I look away from him and scan the entire room for a quiet spot. I found one and then walked up to it. A waiter passes by and I stop him to take a glass of champagne off the tray. I sip a little and continued with just glancing around. I don't know why but I always found parties like these quite boring. Classical music plays in the background, the guests consisting majorly of elderly members of the high society, everyone dresses as if we were in a ballroom of some sort and it's too classy and composed. You can never be yourself at such parties. Literally, half of the people here are fake. Fake smiles, fake laughter, fake gestures and fake caring. For the men, it's more or less a business gathering. The women, time to show off their jewellery. Quite chaotic and annoying. I just want to leave already.

I stare at Christian. It would be nice if he could turn once and take a momentarily glance at me. Perhaps, he would notice my situation and possibly care enough to leave as well. My eyes steady on him, wishing with all my might that he turns once. If only I was telepathic.

"Harieth!" The voice causes me to look away from it an unto the owner of the voice. I stare at the petite framed woman in wide smile approaching me.

"Harieth Gryffin, right?" She questions and I hesitated for a moment before nodding. Suddenly, she throws her arm around me and encloses me in a brief hug much to my surprise.

Who on earth is this woman that thinks it's okay to hug me without my permission?

"Julie." She pronounces as if I'm supposed to remember right away and when I didn't, well she got the gist.

"It's me, Julie Statham." She finishes and honestly, nothing rang a bell. She stares at me blankly for a second.

"Julie Statham. We attended the same kindergarten and middle school. We were best friends." She adds and the last sentence causes me to slowly widen my eyes. Best... friends?

She stares at me with hope-filled eyes eagerly waiting for me to give the expected reply. I take a second to analyse her and try to recall if what she said was true or not. We had similar hair colours. She was a little short regardless of the heels she had on. Her body is slender and her skin paler than mine. Her choice of dressing, a little odd to me. She wore a chic, round and golden-framed glasses.

Glasses. Was I ever friends with someone that wore one? I searched hard and long. In the end, I recalled. A smile slowly grows on her face, so sure that I had definitely recalled who she was but I on the other hand barely showed emotion on my face.

"See? You do remember me."

"No, I don't," I reply quite immediately with a straight face. I watch as the smile on her face slowly goes down.

"I don't think I was ever friends with someone like you. I'm sorry but I think you're mistaken." I told her before attempting to walk away. She grasps onto my arm much to my surprise. I shift my eyes to her.

"I'm not. I... I can never forget your face. We were inseparable but then the accident hap..." Something snaps, I drag my arm away from her grasp and pour the champagne in my glass onto her face before throwing the glass on the floor causing it to shatter to pieces. As a result, eyes turn to us. My heart had begun racing faster than usual.

"Get this into your thick skull... I don't know you!" I slightly heighten my voice on the last sentence. She could barely look up to me as her face tightens up and a few sobs could be heard escaping her lips. I just stare at my heart kept racing.

A sudden grasp onto my arm jolts me out of my semi-comatose state and I found myself being dragged towards the exit of the room.

My Husband, Whose Heart Belongs To Another.Where stories live. Discover now