CHAPTER 38: UNTITLED IV

CHAPTER 38: UNTITLED IV

James had never felt so misunderstood. "Maybe when you've calmed down," he started, his voice tight. "We can talk about it then, because right now, it seems like you're not listening."

Diana's expression contorted in a mix of anger and hurt. "Oh, really?" she retorted. "Is that what you think? That I'm not listening? You're the one who's not understanding!"

Diana had painstakingly chosen this outfit, every ruffle and bead whispering "look at me" for James. When the door creaked open, her heart hammered against her ribs, waiting for his reaction. But all he saw was the room, oblivious to the effort she'd poured into her appearance.

A prickle of tears stung her eyes. "I put this on for you," she choked out, her voice trembling.

"What?" James's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Yes, James!" she retorted, tears glistening on her lashes. "I wanted you to see me like this when you came home. was that so bad? Did you even notice?"

Tears welled up, threatening to spill over. Diana hurled his jacket at him, the fabric raining down like a silent accusation, and fled the room.

James stood alone at the center of the room, frustration simmering beneath his surprise. The weight of his unspoken words heavy in the air. He had wanted to express his desire, his fear, his possessiveness, but it all came out jumbled and wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture echoing the tangled mess of his emotions. The silence in the wake of her departure was deafening. Now, he had a bigger problem: the chasm between them, widened by his clumsy attempt at control.

The room fell silent once more. James knew they needed to talk, to unravel the tangled knot of emotions before it choked them both. But for now, they were left to navigate the storm of their unspoken desires and fears, each locked in their own silent struggle.

* * * * * * * * *

In her office, Diana bit her lip, regret churning in her stomach. Reacting like that wasn't her, but his indifference to her dressing for him felt like a punch to the gut. Maybe she'd read the signals wrong. Was this just a fling for him, fueled by fleeting desire? He didn't really like her at all, she was just the one falling blindly with him or had she given herself away too easily? The fear of his potential rejection clawed at her.

But a fierce loyalty flickered within her. No, she wouldn't regret this. Choosing to be with him and give herself to him, however it ended, had been her decision, and one she wouldn't take back. It was the only certainty in this whirlwind of confusion.

Diana didn't know for how long she sat thinking, but it was a while. Lost in thought, she barely noticed the knock on her door. Before she could respond, it creaked open, and James slipped in. He found her staring into space, a statue sculpted from sorrow.

He sank onto the sofa beside her, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "come here". Gently, he lifted her leg, placed it on his lap, and started tracing circles on her skin, the smooth softness a stark contrast to his troubled mind. He met her gaze, a tentative smile playing on his lips. "Are you still angry with me, wife?"

Diana watched his silent apology unfold, speechless. When he spoke, his voice was hushed, laced with concern. But all she could do was pout and turn away, unable to face the question hanging in the air.

James, sensing her resistance, took a bolder step. He drew her closer, her toes dangling playfully above the armrest. The new position brought their faces inches apart, the intimacy both exhilarating and frightening. He could feel her breath on his skin, a warm whisper against the storm raging within him.

"What are you doing, James?" Diana finally breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

He didn't answer, only leaned in, his lips just a breath away from hers. The answer danced in his eyes, a silent plea for understanding, for forgiveness. This wasn't just about the dress anymore. It was about the unspoken words, the tangled emotions, the fragile dance of their connection.

But Diana moved her face away before he could get to her lips. He had turned her on earlier in the Kitchen with just a simple kiss, so she did not want it to happen again otherwise she would not be able to reject him this time around, not to mention the fact that she was still in pain.

James, catching Diana's reaction, gave a quick nod and pulled back. "Alright. At least let me hold you," he said softly. "If you don't want my lips on yours, then let me just be here with you. I came to keep you company, let me do that."

He didn't wait for an answer, instead drawing her closer. Her head nestled against his neck, his on her forehead. One arm crossed behind her back, the other hand resting gently on her waist. Diana settled into the embrace, finding solace in his warmth.

"I'm sorry," James whispered against her hair. "Don't be angry anymore, mhm?" Diana sighed, inhaling. A silent sigh escaping her lips and a deep wavering nod the only response he received.

But for James, it was enough. They sat in comfortable silence, each lost in their thoughts yet basking in the quiet companionship, their breaths mingling in the night until sleep finally claimed them.