Until I Really Do

Chapter Twenty Six

“How can I trust you?”

Sharon watched in horror as for the umpteenth time in her life, she was placed on the gambling table.

She should be used to it by now; she told herself, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stumbled up the stairs and crawled back into bed. She should be used to being exchanged, to being tossed about like a worthless piece of furniture. Hadn't her own father given her up in exchange for his debt? Hadn't Jenkins, the drunken fool, done the exact same thing with her? Why was she foolish enough to believe Matthew wouldn't follow in the footsteps of every other man she had known in her life and give her up for the cancellation of his own debt? It would seem that every man she came across was knee deep in debt and she was the perfect remedy for their problem.

But unlike her father and Jenkins, Matthew's betrayal felt worse. The pain that stabbed at her chest as the memory of him seated there with his father coursed through her mind. It only seemed to get worse until she was certain it would drive her insane —a feeling she hated; the dumb feeling of weakness, the one that made her feel like she was drowning in her grief.

And Sharon knew she couldn't drown. She could neither drown for her father, nor for Jenkins. She especially could not drown for Matthew.

Several hours passed before she wiped her tears, anger replacing her grief as she went down the stairs for breakfast. She straightened her shoulders, making sure to maintain eye contact with everyone on the table, especially Matthew's father. A part of her wanted him to know she had heard what he said about her, almost daring him to repeat it to her face. But nothing of the sort was said. Matthew kept his gaze on his plate through breakfast, and once that was done, he retreated outside.

Not believing herself to be capable of sitting through breakfast with his vile family, she retreated as well, marching up the stairs to her room. She settled on the chair, choosing to distract herself with her unfinished embroidery.

Leaving here would be best, she told herself, stabbing the fabric with the needle. She could never belong here, in this mess, with this cruel family. She was a fool to have gotten married to Matthew in the first place, and she was a bigger fool to have given in to her lust the evening before.

Yet, she knew what she felt that evening was much more than lust. What was even worse was that she knew the cursed thing was now eating at her heart, threatening to destroy her from within.

“Blondie,”

Gasping, she turned to the side, shocked to find Matthew standing by the door.

“I'm sorry, did I scare you?”

Numb, she shook her head. She straightened, fully expecting him to announce his plans for a divorce.

“I have your father tied up in the barn,”

“What?!” Shocked, she stared at him. She was uncertain if she was shocked at his decision to tie her father up, or at the fact that he wasn't here to request for a divorce.

“I'm sorry, but I didn't think I had a choice. He seemed to be in a bad shape yesterday. I couldn't send him home in good conscience knowing he was most likely going to harm himself and I couldn't bring him in here knowing he could harm you. I didn't have a choice.”

The sincerity and concern in his voice made her heart do a small flip, temporary ridding her of the memory of the morning before. He stood there, appearing to genuinely care for her.

She nodded. “You are right, you did the right thing.”

Relief flooded his features as he began making his way to where she sat. Sharon felt her heartbeat quicken with every move he made until he was standing before her. A small frown creased her face, her lungs constricting as he leaned down before her.  He kissed her lips, the warmth of his lips grazing hers for the briefest second as his hand settled on her cheek.

Instinctively, she leaned forward as well, her anger dissipating as his lips settled on hers once more. She let out a soft breath, closing her eyes.

“Would you like to have a word with your father before I have one of the farmhands escort him home?” He breathed, his thumb running back and forth her cheek.

Sharon felt her body react to his closeness. Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck and shook her head, expelling every thought of her father; she could barely stand to look at George Freelance knowing that nothing good could come out of their meeting. And Matthew? It would seem that he had decided to stay with her. He was here, wasn't he? Perhaps he had chosen her over his inheritance? Perhaps he had decided that he was in love with her?

She touched his cheek, his eyes holding hers captive. This is where she wanted to be —in his arms— not with her father.

As if reading her thoughts, he pulled her into his arm, his lips capturing hers once more as the fabric that had been in her lap fell to the ground. She felt his arm take possession of her waist, pulling her further against his firm chest as his lips trailed her neck to her collarbone.

She threw her head back, basking in the exploration of his lips as her fingers curled around his shirt in a feeble attempt to keep her legs from giving out on her. He must have noticed her difficulty in standing because he suddenly lifted her up in his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist.

“Blondie,” he murmured hungrily against her neck.

Letting out a shaky breath, she tried to respond but could only manage a soft moan instead as his hand crept up her skirt, his fingers burying themselves in her bare thigh.

“There's... Something...” He breathed, groaning as her hands dug into his hair. “I need to tell you,” he was saying just as she leaned to the side and began nibbling on his earlobe.

His grip on her waist tightened. Turning around, he carried her to the bed and placed her on the soft surface. She leaned back, her eyes trailing every muscle in his chest as he lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. Her skin warmed at the sight of him in the daylight, everything in her desiring to be reconnected with him.

Sitting upright, she began fighting to unbutton her dress. He sat before her then, his gaze holding hers as he leaned forward and took over the task from her. Her skin warmed some more just as she watched his eyes catch fire at the sight of her.

“You wanted to tell me something?” She managed, breathless.

“Yes, that,” He leaned forward as she settled on the bed, her back pressed to the soft pillow. “I love you, Blondie.”

Sharon expelled a breath, his words shocking her and his lips reconnecting with hers once more, silencing her as their bodies became one.

Copyright © 2016-2020 Lily Orevba All rights reserved.

I'm adding a few new chapters to this story because I'm not sure the old chapters would contain this new re-write. Also because there are some old comments that refer to the old chapters that could be confusing.

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