Page 37 of The Trouble With Her (The Forbidden Love 4)

As we sit here poking fun at Eric’s obsession over the royal family, I can’t help but admire the two couples in front of me. As corny as it may sound, all of them went through hell to find their great love.

But as for me, I don’t know what I want.

All I know is being in London will be the ultimate test as to whether I face my demons or not. I’ve felt the pain of losing everything important to me, and experiencing the raw heartache all over again is my very reason for wanting to stay away from her.

Hurt me once, shame on you.

Hurt me twice, shame onme.

Eight

Jessa

We enter the grand ballroom as guests of the annual black and white gala held in London.

It’s my first time in attendance. This time last year, I was in my third trimester, the size of an elephant, and ready to become a mother for the first time. Most of my pregnancy flew by, but the last few weeks dragged on, making it my least favorite part of the experience.

My arm is linked into Benedict’s. The fabric of his designer tuxedo is soft against my bare arm. I wear an Oscar de la Renta gown, white with a strapless bodice and full skirt. The moment I laid eyes on the picture of it, I knew it was the perfect dress for the occasion.

Earlier in the evening, the stylist suggested my unruly hair be tied up into a classic bun. However, it was apparent when she gazed at my hair for what felt like minutes on end, she wasn’t impressed with my untamed curls.

I didn’t argue, trying to feed Bentley at the same time. Of course, it annoyed her, but I ignored the attitude. She was paid to do the job, and spending time with my son is important to me, especially since he’s been fussy of late.

Benedict insisted I wear the diamond necklace he gave me on our first wedding anniversary. It’s a beautiful piece, and the sentiment behind it isn’t lost on me. Maybe, tonight is the night we can enjoy ourselves, and the Benedict I fell in love with will finally make an appearance again.

During our walk inside the ballroom, Benedict has stopped several times to introduce me to his acquaintances. Wherever he goes, someone knows of him or his family. The Banks are a very influential family, which is why Rosemarie insisted I be ‘on show’ at all times. Thank God she has been struck with the stomach flu as of this morning. I pretended it was awful, but secretly, relieved she wouldn’t be here to criticize my every move.

My gaze moves around the room, admiring the high ornate ceilings with chandeliers hanging and the crystals reflecting across the room. The soft tones are inviting, and the décor enchanting. Organza drapes hang from the arch windows, matching the tablecloths with intricate gold candelabras centered on each table.

The detail is simply exquisite from the china positioned symmetrically on each table to the napkin holder circling the expensive linen—only the best of the best.

As my eyes dance around the room in admiration, the gowns and tuxedos are what make this all the more beguiling. Designer labels, ballgowns, sequins, and even satin—each person is looking beautiful in their own right.

All of it, combined with the band’s soft music, is so romantic.

My heart skips a beat as I release a sigh, hoping Benedict will enjoy the night with me. But, as I turn to whisper something to him, his attention is elsewhere.

“Will you excuse me, Jessa? I must speak to Mr. Fairmont. He’s been avoiding my calls, and I know he is trying to be difficult on purpose.”

As I go to open my mouth, Benedict kisses my cheek and then walks away.

So much forromance.

I find myself wandering around, quietly admiring things that catch my eye. Finally, a friend of Rosemarie’s stops to say hello, graciously introducing herself and reminding me she was a guest at our wedding. The day had been a blur, and despite me refusing to acknowledge it at the time, I drank way more than I should’ve to the point where Millie and Ava held back my hair while I repeatedly threw up in the toilet.

My stroll around the ballroom lands me right beside Benedict again, but unfortunately, he doesn’t acknowledge my presence in the middle of a conversation with another friend of Rosemarie’s.

The conversation is incredibly dull. My eyes are barely able to stay open. It didn’t help Bentley was teething last night, keeping me up with his pain. I spent hours cradling him to sleep until we both fell asleep in the rocking chair. There’s only so much talk you can take about the countryside before you want to poke your eyes out. The hills are green, the trees are swaying, and there’s the smell in the air. Okay, I’m done.

“And the foliage,” Mrs. Bruick comments as Benedict nods, only entertaining this because Mrs. Bruick is thinking of selling her land, which he wants in on. “Just stunning.”

“Absolutely stunning,” Benedict echoes.

My eyes wander around the room, mesmerized by a young woman dressed in a laced white mermaid dress. She’s absolutely stunning, tall with what appears to be long, lean legs beneath her dress. Her chestnut brown hair rests against her olive skin in loose, soft curls.

A song plays with a mesmerizing beat, setting the mood, and just when I’m about to ask Benedict if he’d like to dance—the woman catches my attention again. She’s across the room, but she is laughing as a man beside her leans in and whispers. Her partner must be saying something to make her eyes dance with such delight, and although it’s rude of me to stare, I’m unsure why I can’t seem to turn away.

Then, slowly, he pulls away from her ear with a delicious smile on his face. His hair color is oddly familiar, a mixture of golden brown with blond, styled to the side and away from his face.

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