Chapter 208: UNRAVELING TRUTHS

CHAPTER 208. UNRAVELING TRUTHS

GLORIA'S POV

"And what do you think the real me is?" Tristan asks, his voice low and curious, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that makes my heart skip.

I tilt my head, a slow smile spreading across my face as I consider his question. "Honestly?" I pause for effect, watching the way his jaw tightens in anticipation. "I think the real you is a mess. The real you is a little twisted, a little broken in ways that most people would never understand." I let the words hang in the air between us before continuing. "You've made quite a reputation for yourself, Tristan—the entire world knows it. You're a playboy, Mr. Tristan, through and through. A certified heartbreaker who collects women like trophies." I grin wickedly, letting the sarcasm drip from every word, enjoying the way his expression shifts between amusement and something darker.

He laughs then, a genuine sound that rumbles from deep in his chest as he shakes his head. "Wow. Don't hold back or anything, Gloria. Tell me how you really feel."

"But," I continue, reaching up to trace a fingertip along the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath my touch, "underneath all that mess, underneath that carefully constructed facade you show the world, I think there's someone who's been starving for connection. Someone who wants to be seen for who they really are, to be wanted not for their money or status, but for themselves. Someone who's desperate to be understood." I pause, letting my fingers trail down to rest against his chest where I can feel his heartbeat quickening. "Maybe that's the real you, Tristan. And maybe, just maybe, that's the part I can't stop falling for, no matter how hard I try to resist it."

Tristan is smiling at me now, and the gleam in his eyes—that soft, vulnerable gleam I've only seen a handful of times—is doing some absolutely crazy things to my chest. My heart is hammering so hard I'm surprised he can't hear it. God, I can't help it. I can't fight it anymore. I feel so stupidly, insanely, wonderfully crazy right now that I have to roll my eyes and try to turn away from him, if only to protect myself from the overwhelming intensity of whatever this is between us.

But he doesn't let me escape. He pulls me back firmly against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around me as he moves his hand towards my jaw, tilting my face up towards his. He pulls me close until our lips connect, and the sensation that floods my body is so overwhelming, so all-consuming, that I forget how to breathe. God, I could kiss him like this forever. Time seems to stop as I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss. Our lips entwine, followed by our tongues in a dance that's both familiar and thrillingly new, and soon I'm moaning softly against his mouth, lost completely in the sensation of him.

But the ecstasy doesn't last as long as I'd like. I notice the way he suddenly jolts, his entire body going rigid, and he slowly but deliberately manages to pull away from my greedy mouth. He turns his head to look somewhere else, breaking our connection. I follow the line of his sight, my eyes tracking across the living room to the entrance that leads to all the several rooms in the building.

Annabelle is standing there, right at the threshold, looking at the both of us with a distinct frown creasing her forehead, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She looks annoyed, or maybe disappointed—I can't quite tell which.

I instantly snap out of my haze and jump from my position on the couch, standing up abruptly to look at her, suddenly very aware of how we must appear. Heat rushes to my cheeks as embarrassment washes over me.

She rolls her eyes dramatically and quickly looks away, as though she hadn't been standing there watching us for who knows how long. She scoffs under her breath and shakes her head before turning around. "There's food in the kitchen," she says flatly, her voice carrying a note of something I can't quite identify. "If you both are hungry, you can help yourselves." She doesn't wait for a response, just walks away without turning back, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

I frown, staring after her retreating form. Okay, that's really, really weird. Something is definitely off about her behavior, but I can't quite put my finger on what. I think to myself before turning to look at Tristan, hoping he might have some insight.

He just shrugs, but the way he shrugs—that casual, unconcerned lift of his shoulders paired with a slight smirk—just makes me want to bust out laughing right now without any control. The absurdity of the whole situation suddenly hits me, and I have to bite my lip to keep from giggling.

He chuckles, clearly reading my expression, and pulls me back towards himself, wrapping his arms around my waist. God, I am looking at him with all the affection in my gaze, unable to hide what I'm feeling. I can't help it. I really cannot fight it anymore. I just want him, want this, want whatever we're building together. The thought circles through my mind as I smile without being able to control it.

He stands up fully, bringing me with him, and moves even closer, hugging me so tight I can barely breathe. He plants slow, deliberate kisses against my neck, each one sending shivers down my spine. I laugh out loud, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside. "Okay, okay, quit it, lover boy," I manage to say between giggles. "We need to control ourselves right now, or I don't think my sister will be so accepting of us getting hot and heavy in her living room. She already looked like she wanted to murder us both."

He laughs out loud when I say that, and God, how his voice sounds so sweet and so blissful, just like music to my ears. I chuckle and shake my head, looking at him as he rubs his palm against his forehead, trying to compose himself. "God, aren't you just so amazing?" he says, his voice filled with genuine wonder, and I'm grinning like an absolute idiot, probably looking completely ridiculous but not caring one bit.

"Yeah, so, now that we're trapped here—" I begin, but before I can go on, I notice the way he's looking around the room, his expression growing more serious.

"What about John?" he asks suddenly, forcing me to frown in confusion.

Since when the hell did he care about John? I've never actually introduced him to John before—they've never even met. And that's when it strikes me like a lightning bolt. Yeah, John doesn't know about everything that's happening. Doesn't know about the fact that his dad has divorced his mum. Doesn't know that his mum has figured out a new lover and is moving on with her life. Doesn't know that his entire world is practically twisting into a new reality that his young brain might not be able to comprehend. The weight of it all crashes down on me suddenly, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath to steady myself.

"Oh my God," I mutter, the reality of the situation finally sinking in completely.

Tristan looks at me with a worried expression, his eyebrows drawing together. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?" he asks, urgency coloring his tone.

I chuckle nervously, the sound coming out strained. "Yeah, well, it's just really so weird right now," I say, struggling to find the right words. "Everything is happening so fast, and I'm just now realizing the full implications."

He frowns, stepping closer and taking my hands in his. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

I chuckle again and shake my head, feeling overwhelmed. "I don't know, Tristan. I don't know how I want to say it, but it's really so crazy. Everything feels like it's spinning out of control." I pause, gathering my thoughts. "I'm just thinking about John. I can't stop thinking about him, actually."

"What about John?" he prompts gently, giving my hands a reassuring squeeze.

I chuckle, but there's no humor in it this time, and shake my head. "Everything is really changing so fast. It's just too much, and I'm thinking about him—about what all of this means for him. Thinking about how he's going to be, how he's going to cope with everything, how he's going to comprehend all these massive changes in his life." I feel my throat tightening with emotion. "Everything is totally going to be so new for him, so different from what he's known his whole life. I don't think he'll be able to keep up with it all. He's just a kid, Tristan. Just a little kid who deserves stability and normalcy, and instead his whole world is falling apart."

Tristan smiles softly, that gentle, understanding smile that always makes me feel like maybe everything will actually be okay. "Hey, it's alright, okay?" He reaches up to cup my face in his hands, forcing me to look directly into his eyes. "There's no need to put so much pressure on him, or on yourself for that matter. He's still a young kid, and at this age, well, it might not really be so easy for him to understand the complexities of adult relationships and divorce. But I promise you, Gloria, whatever the situation is, whatever challenges come up, I'm going to be with you every step of the way, okay? You're not alone in this."

His words warm something deep inside me, but then his expression shifts slightly. "What about David? Has he called you back, or is there any news about him? Any updates on the situation?"

I take a deep breath, feeling the familiar weight settle in my chest at the mention of my soon-to-be ex-husband. "Well, it appears he has finally come back to his senses," I say, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. "He's now his full self right now, and it is just finally crystal clear to me that he had actually been deceiving me all those years. All the lies, all the manipulation, all the gaslighting—it was all intentional. He knew exactly what he was doing."

Tristan frowns deeply and looks at me, cupping my jaw in his large hands, his touch gentle despite the tension I can see in his posture. "Do you mind telling me what happened?" he asks carefully, his voice soft and encouraging.

I grind my teeth together, feeling the familiar anger and hurt rising up. I just shrug, trying to appear casual even though my heart is racing, and begin to scratch nervously against my neck—a habit I've developed whenever I'm uncomfortable. "He requested a divorce," I say finally, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

I notice the way Tristan's eyes go wide with shock, his mouth falling open slightly. "Oh no, you've got to be kidding me," he says, disbelief evident in every syllable. "He actually had the audacity to—"

"Yeah, he did," I interrupt, scoffing. "And I don't know, it's just really crazy. I can't seem to place my head around it, can't make sense of how everything changed so quickly. One day we were a family, and the next..." I trail off, unable to finish the sentence as emotions threaten to overwhelm me.