Page 29 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

When I was almost dozing off to sleep, I heard a phone ring in the distance. He carefully slid from under me, picking it up on the fifth ring, and his gruff voice said, “Clare, I told you I’m on a business trip. Yes. Yes. Tell the girls Daddy loves them, and I’ll be home tomorrow.”

Without thinking, I sat up as he spun around in shock to see me awake, and I whispered, “Daddy? Be home tomorrow?” The realization of his words hit me all at once, and I gulped for breath while he lounged on the bed, hugging me close, and tears streamed down my cheeks when everything aligned in my head.

Married.

He’s married and has daughters!

I pushed at his arms so hard I probably hurt him, not that I cared in that moment. Wrapping the sheet around me, I stood up. “You’re married.” I kept on chanting, putting on my clothes all while he tried to plead with me, and maybe in his head all his reasonings seemed legitimate, but for me though?

They all sounded like giant excuses.

“Flora, listen to me. It’s not what you think. I’m not with her. We don’t love each other.” I just shook my head, slipped into my shoes, and rushed to the door, only for him to catch me midway, his hand circling my waist and pressing me flush against him. “I’m staying because of the girls,” he whispered into my ear, rocking me in his arms as I stood still in them. In that moment, the full scope of my stupidity hit me so hard I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping for it all to be a nightmare instead of my horrendous reality.

I might be sheltered, naïve, and inexperienced when it comes to relationships; however, even I know these are the words every cheater uses to justify his actions and fog the mind of a woman he has an affair with.

Finally snapping out of my shock, I kneed him in the balls—Matilda taught me how to do it—and ran away.

And now I’m in my room, writing this, so I’ll never forget or change my mind about Paris.

No.

He can’t be my Paris in the current circumstances, right?

Paris loved Helen of Troy unconditionally and never had a secret life outside their love.

She was the one who had a husband, but it never stopped Paris. He was even willing to declare a war for her.

My betraying thoughts flash in my mind, shaping a picture in my head of my Paris suffering in a marriage he never wanted, just like Helen.

Based on what he told me about himself, his mother rules his life and never allowed him to pursue his dreams, always insisting on a certain image their family should have.

I hate myself for this, I really do, but I can’t help the emotion building inside me, demanding I go back to him and listen to his truth, the truth that might put a healing balm on my bleeding wound.

A voice inside my head screams for me to push all these thoughts of love out of my mind and protect myself from the inevitable blow that always comes from affairs and secret relationships like ours.

But try as I might, I’m probably too weak to resist love’s calling.

And in this moment when I’m ready to run back into his arms, something else enters my heart, mingling with the love burning brightly there.

Hate.

Hate aimed at Howard for destroying the pureness of our love with his lies, and myself… for clasping invisible cuffs around my wrists that forever attach me to him.

Love is not a blessing.

No.

Love is a curse.

Briseis

Finding a secluded corner in the library, I quietly put my tablet on the table and drop my bag on one of the chairs.

I sigh in relief when I sit down, slipping my wedges off and wiggling my toes that sport a few blisters from yesterday’s heels.

Glancing down, I huff in exasperation at my yellow sundress that ends slightly above my knee, the one I picked from the pile of clothes one of the maids delivered to my room today. According to her, I’m supposed to wear them during my stay in Chicago per my grandmother’s orders.

The whole time she spoke the words though, she kept on trembling and glancing over her shoulder as if she was lying, which was laughable in itself, because who else would have sent all those beautiful, expensive clothes?

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