Denied
Chapter 3
She'd taken a few gulps of air to steady herself as she watched his form disappear through the doors of her study. Inwardly, she called herself every kind of fool and fell into her leather chaise, seeking comfort but finding none against the cold covering on her furniture.
A low groan escaped her lips after the doors closed behind him and she forced herself to revaluate her life.
She'd grown up in a modestly wealthy household, attended the best private schools and a decently respectable university. She'd even had a good shot at becoming a successful artist when Andrew had proposed. Bitterly, she remembered the day she packed up her art supplies and traded the smooth blank canvases for white canvas shoes at the beach and her paintbrushes for heirloom pearls.
She did not regret the life she built with her husband for going on eight years, but she did mind feeling as if she had not accomplished anything of value on her own. Andrew was the perfect, all-American heartthrob. He was the perfect husband and, if she were to ever get pregnant, she was sure he would be the perfect father. She felt the tears build at the thought of a baby with her blonde hair and his warm green eyes.
But immediately the image shifted and the little boy's hair turned the color of midnight and she gasped as his eyes became a dark cobalt. Willing the thoughts away, Serena forced her trembling form off the chaise and her legs propelled her out of the study. She faintly pondered chasing after the man she desired more at this moment than any other man in her life and those thoughts sent her flying up the grand staircase in terror. Hastily she divested herself of her restricting clothing and tugged on a black lacy nightgown that had previously been draped over her vanity chair. Refusing to think of Darien any longer, she climbed into bed and pulled the covers over her head, hoping to drown out his husky voice within the thick cream sheets of her bedding.
Andrew's entrance into their bedroom startled her awake and she rolled over, popping one eye open as she took in the sight of her husband. A quick glance at the alarm clock on his side of the large bed confirmed it was close to three in the morning.
"Andrew-" upon hearing her sleepy voice, Andrew, who had been loosening his tie, swung around and wrapped smartly into the bedside table.
"Damn mphm mmph!" he covered his mouth to muffle the rest of his statement as he hopped around holding his knee with his other hand.
Serena instantly shifted into a sitting position and crawled over to his side of the bed.
"Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you!" she kept her voice quiet, not wanting to wake the staff so early in the morning.
A sigh escaped her husband as he eased himself onto the bed, carefully extending his injured leg and wrapping an arm around his previously slumbering wife.
"It's alright, love. I was trying not to wake you." he pressed his lips to her forehead briefly, hoping he did not smell of Mina's perfume. "Go back to bed. We have to get up in a few hours!"
She wearily complied, scooting over to what was considered her side of the king-sized bed and sinking into the fluffy pillows. Her mind drifted as the sounds of her husband undressing moved to the back of her thoughts and her upcoming travel plans moved to the forefront.
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The late morning sun did not brush her shoulders while large table umbrella shaded her from the harsh rays. Serena sat patiently waiting for her brunch guest to arrive. She was beautiful in the early light, golden hair usually swept into an elegant bun or curled into a pearl clip, now hung loose and flowed in the wind. Her complexion was clear and her makeup minimal, leaving elegance behind for a fresh look. She had chosen to pack only light, flowing clothing and had dressed for relaxation in a butter cream sundress and white cardigan that would protect her from the afternoon winds. Simple white flats adorned her feet which we crossed in a relaxed pose, every so often swinging gently underneath the table. Her dark sunglasses lay folded on the table, momentarily forgotten.
Glancing at the dainty watch on her equally dainty wrist, she suppressed a frown; Trista was twenty minutes late. A garcon breezed by her table and refreshed her drink before tossing her a saucy wink and sashaying to another table.
She remembered a time when his gaze would have called a flush to her face and set her heart beating rapidly. Now, she mused, it did nothing.
"Merci" she muttered and took another drink of the light wine. It may have been only eleven, but Serena felt more than justified drowning her sorrows so early. She was in a foreign country, hopefully she would not run into anyone that would force her to keep appearances. At that thought, she did a quick sweep of the immediate area, dreading the idea of seeing anyone she knew other than Trista.
Two days she'd been lounging in her hotel room, traveling to the small quiet cafes and drowning in the memories of the summer she had spent abroad so many years ago. Now she felt ancient, bitter and flat out miserable. The dreams she had envisioned here, the glimpses of romance as couples strolled down the sidewalks arm in arm, the smells wafting from the bakeries, all of it made her yearn for love the way she had nearly ten years before.
"Serena!" Trista's excited voice broke through her reverie and she instantly twisted her lips into a smile, simultaneously rising to embrace her friend. She missed the shocked look her friend covered with a breathless smile after mere moments.
"Trista, it's been too long." They kissed each others' cheeks and Serena resumed her seated position, Trista gracefully slid into one of her own. They talked the small talk that Serena felt comfortable with, opting to stay away from Trista's questions about her marriage and her life in the states.
Their conversation was companionable and she was grateful Trista did not probe further than a few innocent questions about Andrew's health and business. When their orders arrived they lapsed into a comfortable silence momentarily, before Trista laid down her fork with an exasperated sigh.
"I can see that you're upset, Serena, I just wish you would trust me enough to tell me what it is that has made you this unhappy." The exotic burgundy eyes of her friend burned into her own and she instinctively held onto the hand that reached for hers.
"Oh Trista," she paused, attempting to swallow the lump that formed in her throat, "I'm just so lonely." Her tone conveyed her misery and the intensity momentarily stunned Trista.
"Lonely? I do not understand, Cherie." Her expression was of complete and utter confusion. As far as she could tell, Serena was happily married and led a wonderful life. "Do you not have Andrew?"
Serena's bitter laugh caused a frown to worry on the perfectly painted ruby lips of her friend and she knew she had better start explaining soon, else Trista call for the men in white suits and attempt to have her committed.
"I'm sorry, Trista. The truth is, things are not very good between Andrew and I. I was foolish enough to believe that maybe children would help patch up things between us. But I've been sitting here thinking about it, and the more I think about it, children will not fix the problems in my marriage. We seem to live two different lives. Andrew is hardly ever around and I don't feel like myself anymore." She paused to take Trista's other hand into her's. "I think I want a-a divorce."
Trista's hands tightened around her own and she drew comfort and strength from this powerful embrace.
"Oh Sere, my darling, it'll be okay."
She had not realized the tears she had been fighting had bubbled over and were spilling from her eyes but she did not make any effort to hide them now. 'What was the use?' she thought bitterly, 'I don't have to impress anyone here.'
She calmly collected herself and eased her hands from their tight grasp on her friend. She hoped, that while she let Trista's hands regain feeling, she had not lost her grip on reality.
"I'm sorry about that, I guess it has been a long time coming."
"It's okay, Cherie." Trista's understanding gaze proved to be almost too much for her and she felt her tears build behind her eyes. Blinking them back, she searched for a possible question she could use to change the subject.
"So tell me, how are things with you?" Her dark haired companion grinned and ran a hand through her long windswept locks. Serena instantly knew that her normally immaculately dressed friend had been late for a very good reason. While her lipstick was perfect, her mascara was slightly smudged at the outside corner of her left eye and her blood red strapless dress looked as if it had been meant for last night, not this afternoon's brunch.
"Things are" she paused as if thinking about something and grinned back at her friend, "delightful." They shared a knowing look and both laughed, the weight of tension leaving them.
They resumed eating and lapsed into a companionable silence.
Serena felt remarkably better having voiced her thoughts and took delight in her meal for the first time since her arrival. Her gaze flickered to Trista and a sad smile graced her lips. Trista embraced life above all else, and refused to be tamed and groomed into someone else's version of perfection. Serena had once felt she thrived on the beauty of the world and she felt a stab of bitterness when she remembered how she had let Andrew's mother groom her into the role as "the perfect wife of a successful man" as she had put it.
"You couldn't have come at a more perfect time, Cherie. There is so much to do! The weather is stunning, the galleries are debuting new exhibits- oh!" Serena smiled as Trista let her excitement get the best of her. She greatly resembled the young schoolgirl Serena had met all those years ago. Time had changed her in ways that it would never change Trista. Vaguely aware that Trista was still animatedly talking about all the activities they could and would partake in during her stay, she refocused her attention and let herself be dragged through a rough itinerary and eventually through the shopping district.
Trista had noticed her withdrawn, far away gaze and tried her very best to keep Serena busy the entire day. Late that evening as she left Serena's hotel room with promises of lunch the next day, she made a b-line up two flights of stairs and down three doors to her lover's room.
"That was a longer brunch than I expected." Darien's deep voice rumbled and she smiled apologetically.
"The friend I was telling you about, Serena, well she was a little more upset than I expected." At his silence, she felt it necessary to continue. "I knew she was unhappy, but apparently she's unhappy enough to leave her husband now." She sighed and shook her head sadly. "Always such a frail beauty, my Serena. Too easily hurt, and far too easily broken." She walked with him out onto the balcony, smiling at the champagne that chilled next to the small table. He offered her a flute and she took it, not content to leave her thoughts incomplete for him.
"I remember her being so full of life, Darien. Her smiles used to bring all the boys to her. An artist, that one. I bet she hasn't painted in years."
"Your friend is an American artist?" He let her continue, hoping to get as much information out of his mistress as possible. The night was not just for rediscovering old friends, but discovering more about new ones.
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