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Arsen: a broken love story - Asher Mia (читать книги онлайн бесплатно серию книг .txt) 📗

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As my head hits the white, fluffy pillow, I turn to look at the clock. Its neon light lets me know that it’s close to three in the morning. Groaning, I flip on my side and begin to fall asleep when the vibration of my cell phone startles me, waking me up. Blindly, I reach for my phone and stare at the letters that together form a name that has engraved itself in the deepest recesses of my mind.

Looking over my shoulder to the man sleeping next to me, I watch an unsuspecting Ben, oblivious in his sleep. A nervous energy runs through me that causing my hands to shake.

Should I answer?

What if I wake Ben up?

I want to answer.

I need to speak to him.

I need to hear his voice.

You shouldn’t.

Wavering, hesitating, vacillating.

Good intentions lose the battle as I feel an overwhelming panic consume me at the thought of not speaking to him ever again because somehow, call it a hunch, I know that if I don’t answer this phone call he’ll be lost to me.

Forever.

And I’m not ready for that. I’m not. Glancing over my shoulder one last time, I pray that he stays asleep and never finds out about this, none of this. It’s not cheating if I just speak to him, right? Right. With my mind made up, I get up and leave the bedroom as fast as possible, without faltering once in my step. When I reach the bathroom, I shut the door behind me, lower the toilet seat cover and sit down. Body shaking and breathing heavily, I clean my sweaty forehead with the back of my hand as I try to calm down.

Can I do this? Is this right? Why do I feel like throwing up? Why am I hiding in the bathroom? I don’t know. I’m about to crash and explode, and I don’t care. For him, I don’t care. I press redial and wait.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

He’s not going to answer. It’s too late.

Moving the phone away from my ear, I almost end the call when his raspy voice greets me.

“I can’t get you out of my mind.”

“Arsen…”

“I’ve tried so hard to let you go, you know?”

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I just fucked a random woman, and I thought about you the entire fucking time.”

Silent, I feel sick by his words. I’m sick with jealousy.

Sick with disgust.

Just sick.

“Is this real? Was any of it real?”

“The friendship was—”

“Fuck friendship. I never wanted to be your friend.”

“This is not fair. You said that you wanted to be—”

“I know what I fucking said, Catherine. I know. I tried. I failed.”

“I’m married.” I swallow hard. “And pregnant.”

Silence. I hear him breathing heavily on the other line. Each breath that he takes is a punch to the gut. Did I lead him on? Did I know what was going on?

I always knew.

“Fuuuck. I tried. Once you told me you were, I tried backing off, getting you out of my mind, and be your friend but,” he groans, “this is so fucking messed up. I tried. That’s all I can say.”

After a few minutes of total silence, I hear Arsen ask, “Do you love him? Because if you do, you wouldn’t have answered. I wouldn’t matter.”

“Of course I love Ben! Answering your phone call has nothing to do with loving my husband or not.”

“You want me.”

“No. I don’t. I like you as a friend. I care for you as a friend.”

Lie.

“Bullshit. You want me. As much as I want you, maybe more. I felt how fucking wet your pussy was. For me. Not for him. But you know what? I’m done. It’s not fucking worth it. Goodbye, Dimples. I hope you have a good life.”

“Wait! No—”

Click.

The line goes dead.

Just like a small part of me.

Arsen: a broken love story - _53.jpg

“Perfect death,” Ben murmurs.

“What?”

“I’m dead.”

“What do you mean you’re dead?”

The man was just kissing the shit out of me not a minute ago.

“Your lips kill me.” He looks into my eyes and huskily whispers, “They are the perfect death. My perfect death.”

“Oh.”

As Ben and I cuddle in his bed...actually, make that our bed since I officially moved in yesterday afternoon. I can’t believe we’ve been together for four years already. It seems like I met him just yesterday. No joke. But even after all this time, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this feeling of pure bliss I get whenever he’s next to me. He makes me so happy and complete.

He’s my everything.

“I love all the kinky shit we’ve done since yesterday afternoon, but this,” he tightens his grip around my waist, “Is what it’s all about, babe. My girl in my arms. That’s heaven to me.”

We lie there in each other’s arms staring at the ceiling, perfectly content to be surrounded by silence. Yes, Ben is right. This is heaven. My perfect kind of heaven.

I let go of his embrace and sit down with my back against the headboard. Rearranging his body, I move his head to lie on my lap. In this position, I can play with his dark curls and admire him.

My beautiful boy.

Smiling, I look into Ben’s eyes, and I discover what the secret to life is.

Love.

It reveals itself within his gaze, it echoes with his touch, and it etches itself with every kiss to my soul.

“What are the plans for today, woman?” he asks, lifting his hand to play with my loose hair. I’m letting it grow since he seems to like it better this way.

“I’m not sure. Whatever you want to do. It’s so odd having all this freedom and not having my dad breathing down on our necks, right?”

A smug smile touches his lips. “Mmhhmm, but you’re all mine now. And, thank God for that. For a moment, I was pretty sure your dad was going to change his mind. I don’t know. Make up an imaginary illness so you had to stay home and take care of him. Babe. I’m twenty six years old. I’m busting my ass working at the law firm so we can have a real future together without the help of my parents, and your dad still managed to make me feel like scum by wanting to have my girl living with me as if all I wanted to do was have sex with you and nothing else.”

I begin to laugh. That’s all we’ve done since my last box made it into his apartment.

Ben laughs. “Don’t say it! I know, I know. But—”

“But what? Please tell me. I need to hear this,” I tease him, nudging him in his stomach.

“Well, I’m pretty damn sure we managed to squeeze in a word here and there.”

“Oh, yes. Totally.” In a manly voice, I repeat his greeting, “Babe, how about you slip into something more comfortable say, like, me? Those were the first words you said to me as soon as I walked in. Is that having a conversation? Because you weren’t even done putting my box down before I was thrown over your shoulder and on my way to your bedroom.”

Ben smirks. “Our bedroom. And I think we had quite an awesome conversation in my bed. I remember hearing you say, harder, please, God, yes…”

I smack him on the shoulder as I feel a blush covering every surface of my skin. His words bring back memories of last night and this morning.

“Oh, God…baby…don’t stop! Don’t! Yes! Yes!” He keeps teasing me. Giving up, Ben and I burst out laughing so hard until we have tears in our eyes and it’s hard to breathe.

When we stop, I grab his face in my hands, lean down, and kiss him. I try to demonstrate to him with my tongue, my lips, my hands, my body, how much he means to me. He’s the everything to my nothing.

“I love you so much,” I whisper against his lips.

Ben groans, “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” I say, giggling.

“Man, it’s like fucking music to my ears every time you say that.”

Ben’s hands begin to pull my boy shorts down, but I stop him. I stare at him for a moment, taking him in. This boy of mine is a force of nature. His energy revives me. He fills my life with all sorts of beautiful colors. He makes me so damn happy.

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