Braelyn's pov
The room went silent, and even the music went off. I was on the ground, surrounded by sharp shards. My blouse was doused with alcohol..
The waiter panicked and quickly got up. "I am so sorry, ma'am," he apologised and offered to give me his hand. Their stares were on me, and whispers went around.
"Who is she?" One whispered, they didn't bother to lower their tone. Contemptuous evidence in it
"She seems familiar." Another said. They were scrutinising me, judging. I never really cared about the whispers said behind me before. I pretended not to care. Tonight was different, the weight I have been carrying on my shoulders was finally weighing me down
The pressure was cracking me from the inside.
"Isn't she Mr Volkov's wife?" One gasped.
"How embarrassing. How did she end up on the ground?" Their words were not heavy but their tone carried a hidden message.
"Poor thing, maybe that's why he's always with Amelia." Maybe they knew what I hadn't been able to see. What I have been ignoring.
"Ma'am, do you need help getting up ?" The waiter's voice snapped me from my trance. I stretched out my hand to him. A sharp cry left my throat, my teeth gritting.
A sharp pain struck my lower abdomen. I grabbed my stomach, unable to stand up due to the insufferable pain. Infertility was not the only side effect of PCOS. The waiter panicked, reading my painful expression, and started asking if I was doing well.
"She is probably pretending to steal the spotlight from Amelia." Someone scoffed, That wasn't the truth. It hurts; any small movement feels like I am being stabbed in the stomach.
A hand grabbed me from the floor pulling me from the room. Tears streamed down my face once the sharp jolt of pain struck me. Raphael's grasp was tight on my wrist. His footsteps were fast with anger oozing off his body.
"Please slow down, my stomach hurts." I cried out begging. He didn't stop moving. His jaw clenched. Raphael continued storming off from the club until we got outside.
"Raphael, please stop. My stomach feels like it is tearing apart." I screamed unable to hold it in.
His posture stiffened but he didn't let go. He approached his car, and the driver hurried out to open the door for him.
"I will be driving. Get her car back home." He instructed the driver before opening the passenger's seat for me.
Raphael tossed in and slammed the door in my face. He got in through the other side. His hand clenched the steering wheel and there was this look in his eyes I didn't understand.
"I told you not to come over. You haven't been feeling well for days but you decided to come over and make a fool of yourself." His voice rose and then was toned down.
My breath hitched, I didn't know between his words and the pain, which one hurt more, like my heart was being squeezed. He knew I was sick yet chose to attend a party, how ironic.
"It's not like you care," I sneered, enduring the pain in my abdomen.
He groaned, brushing through his hair with his hand. "What do you mean Lynn? For once stop acting like a fucking victim."
I didn't react to his words. My voice was calm but I could not hide the pain. "Can we just go home?"
He glanced at me, finally realising my teeth were gritting in pain. His anger resided like water poured on him. He didn't say a word more and drove off.
The drive felt like forever, each second felt like an hour due to the heavy silence and thick tension in the car.
Raphael pulled over in the driveway. I didn't wait for him to open the car and stagger out, crouching down and holding my stomach. The pain wasn't as bad as earlier but walking was still hard.
Raphael rushed out of the car and swept me off my feet. My lips parted to protest but his stern gaze made the words roll back in. "It won't hurt if you ask for help." He scoffed. His hands held me securely as he carried me in.
I didn't understand Raphael. His actions always puzzled me. Was there something going on between Amelia and him or was it just my imagination?
"What are you thinking Brealyn? There is no excuse for what he did. The medical appointment was important." My thoughts snapped at me. My head rested against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, wondering if it still beats for me.
*******
Raphael's phone kept ringing; the sound forcefully woke me up from sleep.
The phone kept on ringing, God my head was splitting. Who was calling this darn early? I felt like screaming.
I reached out for the phone on the side drawer and picked up the call without checking the name to give the person a piece of my mind. Before I could snap once, the call connected, and a female voice spoke in a sultry tone.
"Raphael, I could not sleep all through last night. Why did you leave without giving me a goodbye kiss?" A familiar feminine voice whined like a spoiled brat.
"Amelia," my voice drawled, surprised to hear her.
"Braelyn, what are you doing with Raphael's phone?" I was about to ask her the same darn question.
The phone was forcefully pried out of my hand. My head snapped around to see Raphael's handsome face glaring hard at me. He had just a towel around his waist, and his hair was damp with water dripping down his toned torso.
He was handsome without a doubt but that glare was freaking me out.
"Why the fuck did you pick up my call?" He snapped at me and then stormed away to answer the call outside the room.
My eyes were still staring blankly at the space he was in. What the hell just happened? When did picking up each other's calls become a big deal?
I sat up on the bed and waited for him to come back. My mind was wandering around what was so special that he could not say it in front of his wife.
The door creaked open and he stepped back in.
"We will talk later then." He said on a final note before hanging up the call. Raphael didn't even glance at me and went straight to the walk-in closet.
"Raphael," I called out but he didn't answer. I got off the bed to approach him.
"We need to talk, Raphael," I said, my hand about to reach him, but he backed away.
"Please not today. I have a lot going on." He brushed me off, his attention on his trousers he was putting on. I felt like laughing, he had a lot going on. Then what was I meant to say?
"So that is how it is now? I am not extra trouble for you to handle." A dry laugh left my lips. Raphael sighed, his annoying face that always made my heart skip looked annoyed.
"Playing the victim again. Everything isn't about you Lynn. I am just tired of everything." He groaned, rubbing his face out of frustration.
My hands clenched, and I stood close to him, squaring him with my eyes.
"You didn't even ask me about yesterday's appointment. You don't even care how I am faring and I am the one playing the victim card."
This was ridiculous. Our eyes locked. Those sharp hazel eyes that stole my heart at first glance.
"That's why I am tired, Lynn. Last night, I called the doctor, and he updated me on everything, Lynn. Right now I just don't want to talk about it. So please cut me some slack." He spat before angrily walking to the mirror to fix his shirt.
My feet were stuck, "the doctor told you everything." I blurted, guilt and self-doubt washed over me
Raphael didn't look away from the mirror but he answered me.
"Yes, every detail about how risky your condition is and how even after the surgery there isn't an assurance this union might ever have a child. Even if we try a surrogate, your hormones are out of control, and getting an egg would be hard." We both went silent and he glanced at me, jaws clenched.
"I just want to be a father, Lynn. I always wanted to and you know it."
My eyes stung, and I could not hold his gaze. I also wanted to be a mother.
"Sorry, but we can still try. There is still a chance."
"What if, after everything, nothing works in the end, Lynn?" I went silent. Raphael looked hesitant but he said those words I never expected from him.
"I think we should try other options and see other people. I want an open marriage, I want to be able to hold my own child."