Dimitri looked up and apologized to Rose. She waved him off.
"Don't worry about it," she said. He'd only known this woman for over a week, and already she had seen him cry, and practically knew everything about him.
What did he know about her though?
Nothing.
She too, like him, held a secret that was killing her. He hoped she trusted him enough to tell him.
But she didn't, did she?
I mean, she'd only known him for over a week, trust doesn't build that quickly. yet she knew otherwise, she'd learn to trust her husband pretty easily, but then again, she'd been naive.
She knew better now, better than to trust a complete stranger, a rich and handsome stranger. She wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. Yet, looking at his brown eyes, she felt like she could trust him.
She was at a tug of war with her feelings, that was her one fault.
"You're not going to tell me, are you," it wasn't a question, it was a statement. When Rose didn't answer, he got up from the couch, angrily.
He wasn't just mad at her for not trusting him, although it was understandable, he was mad at himself.
Mad for trusting her, letting it all out, hoping she would do the same. But he was also hurt. And he didn't like it. Didn't like being hurt by a woman, he'd been hurt by Tasha once. They'd been together all through high school, and the first year of college, until she told him she need space.
He gave her space.
She partied.
He became a womanizer.
At some point he had felt he still loved her, and then her little brother had gone ahead and gotten engaged to her. It's hurt but he'd never seen his little borther so happy, so he let it go.
Let her go.
Tasha had never really said it, but she blamed him for Ivan's death. He blamed himself. She hated him now, she'd been pregnant, and she'd already have the baby girl that looked so much like Ivan. Dimitri had self hatred, how couldn't he. And now for the first time in years he'd opened up to a complete stranger, hoping she would give something in return. Yet all he had gotten was regret.
That was all his life seemed to be; full of regrets.
And so was Rose's.
She regretted meeting her husband, she regretted marrying him, she regretted everything that had to with him; he'd been a big mistake, but her baby wasn't. That was probably the only good thing that had come out of this.
She rubbed her stomach, where her stomach was impatient. She watched as a broken and hurt Dimitri walked away from her.
Why did they have such a great effect in each other?
She decided then, to tell him everything, to be honest like he'd been with her, but after this she would leave, run away as far away as she could.
She stood up, finding courage from her baby. It was difficult to do anything with a watermelon, but she did her best.
"Wait," she said, Dimitri stopped and turned around.
"Yes?" She took in a deep breath.
"I think it's best if we start all over again," she told him. He was confused by this, but nodded nonetheless.
"My real name is Rosemarie Mazur," she started. He thought the name sounded familiar, and was a bit surprised, but he was even more surprised when he heard the rest.
"Better known as the wife of Adrian Ivashkov."
In front of him was a famous model, the wife of his cousin.
Rosemarie Ivashkov.
Surprise, surprise.
.
.
.
How was it? :D
Review.