Chapter sixteen: The final motion

"Tammy?" Mrs. Holmes's voice caused me to jump out of my thoughts. I looked up and glanced at her. "Did you hear me?"

I shook my head and exhaled. "No, I'm sorry, I'm very distracted."

"I can imagine. You and Sherlock moving into your own house tomorrow."

I glanced down at my book. "For a few days….then….I'm out of his hair."

"You're in love with him." Her soft words don't cause me to stir an inch. I bit my lip and looked down. "I can tell." I chose not to answer her. "You're not arguing with me."

"How can I argue," I ask quietly. "when it's a ridiculous thing to imagine?"

"I'm asking because you're crying."

I bit my lip as I reached up and touched my cheek. Sure enough, it was wet with tears. I held up my book as an excuse. "I'm reading sense and sensibility. Elinor just found out Edward is engaged to Lucy Steele."

"You've been like this for days, ever since Sherlock kissed you."

"It meant nothing." I added hastily. "He did it to add color to my character and it worked."

"But he stole more than that kiss didn't he? Your heart got involved as well." She questioned. "It was after that incident that the two of you changed towards each other. You didn't argue as much, you two actually laughed for a while. Then…Sherlock solved the code and things changed again. What happened?"

I inhaled. "I was reminded that my temporary act as his wife was almost over. It's going to be over soon anyway. He doesn't want me and I don't want him."

"Are you sure?"

Those three little words caused me to freeze. I thought back for a moment. I thought back on how he'd treated me these last few days. I thought about how miserable I'd been so since the time for Sherlock and me to spring the final trap before seeking an annulment. My hands began shaking, the book fell from my hands, and I covered my mouth to hold back the sudden sobs that had welled up inside me. I looked at Mrs. Holmes in apology for the sudden burst of emotions. She set aside her teacup and held me as I cried as I realized that I'd fallen in love with the husband I'd been forced to marry. And the worst of it was, he didn't love me. That realization made me cry harder.

"Ohh, Tammy," she soothed me gently. "you need to tell him."

"No!" I cried out. "I can't!"

"Tammy you're miserable and he deserves to know that you love him." She said firmly. "You must tell him."

"He doesn't love me!" I wailed. "I cannot, be chained to a man, who has no feelings for me!" and I looked up at her, madly wiping my eyes. "And why would I tell him when he made it clear that after the annulment I'd make him a great secretary? Besides," I sniffled as I reached for a napkin on the table. "he's said to me that he's divorced himself from feelings."

"I'm sure he didn't mean that."

"He did! He has no interest in love, a wife or having children." I regained control. "I'm sure it's temporary. It's been…the strain of what's going to happen and…I'm nervous. I'm just…trying to find something to hold onto in this time and it's him."

"Well, now that you've got him," Mrs. Holmes said. "I hope you don't let him go."

"Tammy?" I jumped and stood up as Sherlock entered the parlor. "We just got an invitation to join a friend of John Watson, Michael Stamford, for dinner tonight."

"And?"

"Moriarty's going to be there." he stepped towards me. "Get ready to put on the greatest show of your life tonight."

I nodded. "Of course. I am an actress, that's all I do. Act."

Sherlock laughed. "Wonderfully put. Now, better make sure you've got the proper dress on tonight." His eyes gave me a quick once over. "Something that…stimulates the imagination." And with that, he walked out of the room.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I'd chosen a deep forest green dress to wear. It was stunning on me. however, the plunging back served to stimulate the imagination. I had purchased an emerald necklace with a chain hanging down my back with an emerald heart hanging down the back. The dress was beautiful, I hate to admit it, I looked beautiful in this dress with my hair carefully and playfully pinned up and teased. My makeup was perfect and I had all my accessories.

And I felt like a kiwi bird next to a peacock. I was that miserable. I stood up, reached for my white, lacy beaded wrap, and moved towards the door as Sherlock barged in. For once, he was dressed in an actual suit. The last time I'd seen him in a suit was when we married. Last night, Sherlock hadn't even bothered to put on a coat. He'd lounged around as if he were at home alone. I paused, reflecting how most of the time I saw him, he wore only his pants and a button shirt. I had no idea why I suddenly thought about his appearance. But maybe I did so because, for the first time, Sherlock actually looked handsome to me.

Sherlock paused and looked me up and down. I cleared my throat and turned around slowly, allowing him to view me in this dress. "Is this stimulating enough for you?"

"Vversyfine." I frowned and looked at Sherlock curiously, he made a face as if wondering what made his voice change like that. He cleared his throat and spoke again. "You look very fine."

"Thank you." I shook my wrap out and prepared to throw it over my shoulders. Sherlock took it from my hands and stepped around behind me to put it on my shoulders. "Thank you."

He didn't answer me. his large, warm familiar hands brushed over my shoulders, causing me to tremble slightly. His touch didn't linger though, he went and opened the bedroom door for me. "Let's get this evening over with." Sherlock stated as he hurried down the hall. "The sooner the better." His tone was brisk and abrupt.

I shook my head and went down the stairs. I couldn't wait for this to be over. I didn't want to keep imagining myself in love with Sherlock. I would be glad for this case to be over and then the feelings that were torturing me would fade.

My stomach was in a fit of knots the entire evening. Sherlock had decided for some reason that the call of the wine was far too tempting for him to resist and he was deliriously close to get being drunk. I didn't know if he was faking it or not, but I was certain that it was part of his plan. I kept trying to get him to stop drinking so much, but it was no use.

Moriarty and my stepmother were heavily in cohorts the entire evening. The drunker Sherlock got, the closer Moriarty dared to venture. John was keeping a casual eye on me, as was Mary. I turned towards Sherlock just in time to catch his flailing hand in my face. Everyone in the room gasped as Sherlock smacked my face.

I grabbed onto my stinging cheek and stared at him in shock. Sherlock staggered back, he looked innocently stunned as he slurred. "Soo, sorry."

I took my glass of water and threw it in his face. "So am I!" everyone watched as I turned and stomped out of the room. But, not before stopping by the buffet table and grabbing a piece of ice that was cooling the champagne and pressing it to my cheek.

John stepped towards me. "Tammy."

I avoided his gaze." Not now John. I wish to be left alone for a moment."

"Yeah, but Tammy-

I glanced up to see that Sherlock was strolling, somewhat sluggishly towards me. I shook my head. "Be more concerned about him."

John turned towards Sherlock as I made a break for the door. The crowd obligingly moved aside. 'Taammy, wait." He slurred. "I wanna-

I ignored him and kept going, even after he fell into the punch bowl. I went straight towards the back door and went out into the garden. I was in full view from a window. I exhaled and reached into my purse for my mirror to see the extent of the damage done to my face.

I had lifted up the mirror when something stung my neck. I always had a low threshold for pain, so I let out one terrific shriek and I jumped up before I collapsed. I grabbed at my neck as my world swirled around me before turning into one of complete darkness.