Chapter 13: Hits and Wedding Dresses

"Just...let me touch you, Ivy. I've missed you," Aaron murmured, planting kisses on her forehead, her temples, her cheeks, her nose, and his lips crashed into hers with aggressive demand and his tongue darted on when her lips parted to protest.

"Ron—"

His hands circled her waist, pulling her closer, and he grounded against her, letting her feel his hardness.

"It's been so long. This dress tormented me all day," he murmured against her lips, hands moving from her narrow waist to cup her ass. He squeezed tightly and Ivette staggered back, falling unto the couch. "Couldn't wait to rip it off you."

She felt ill. Goosebumps eroded her skin with each touch of his lips. Suffocation. Fatigue. Mild irritation. Disinterest. No arousal. She genuinely wasn't in the mood right now, but Aaron wasn't listening. "Aaron...another time—"

"Now, Ivy." His words slurred as his hands began pushing off her jacket.

"Aaron, stop," Ivette pleaded when he sucked on her neck and pulled the tender flesh with his teeth.

Before, that would've been enough to get her where he wanted her. Now, she was exhausted and didn't want to be touched, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she enjoyed another man's touch more than she did Aaron's.

She just... couldn't.

Aaron succeeded in shrugging her jacket off, completely ignoring her plea. Ivette's breaths came faster and she began to fidget against him. As his tongue lapped on her collarbone and his fingers found her zipper, it became a struggle.

Her eyes stung as she tried to calm her heart. Her body. They had done this so many times before. He was Aaron. She'd loved him. It shouldn't be so hard to... yield to him again.

But her body wasn't listening to her. It didn't want Aaron. She didn't want him, not now at least, and it would take more than grinding himself against her and trying to seduce her with his lips for her to feel something again.

Something was broken between them. Something she knew couldn't be repaired, regardless of how hard she tried. They couldn't go back to being lovers like nothing had happened.

And maybe it was her fault that it all turned out this way, but the damage had been done and fucking wasn't going to fix it.

"Aaron, stop!"

Aaron jerked, pulling back enough to peer into her face and see the tears in her eyes. His expression went from lust to ire. He was instantly livid.

“This is how it’s gonna be with you, huh?” He said calmly, even if she could see the blazing anger in his eyes. He lifted himself off her and strolled to the minibar. He withdrew a bottle from the shelf and grabbed two glasses.

Ivette stood to her feet on shaky legs and she picked up her coat tiredly. The fever was gone but she still felt exhausted. And it had been a strenuous day. Mentally exhausting and physically draining for someone who was recuperating and needed rest.

“I’m exhausted. I don’t feel well, Ron. I will be fine when—”

Aaron tipped the glass toward the couch she’d only just stood from. “Sit. We need to talk.”

Ivette’s brows furrowed. “No. We do not. We have nothing to talk about.”

His eyes hardened and his eyes were like daggers as he tilted his head slightly. “Sit down, Ivette.”

They were doing this then. Gone were the niceties and cajoling—not that he even bothered. It had never gotten this far before. They usually had make-up sex and it was usually great enough to let her temporarily forget why they had fought or broken up in the first place. This. . .this was new, and she didn’t know what to expect.

Her rump sank into the couch as she sat and fingered her cell phone, looking at everywhere but his face or his hands as he poured her a drink. He pushed the glass back in her direction but she didn’t lift it. Her gaze shifted from the shut window blinds to the chandelier hanging from the center of the room. Watching the lights flicker was certainly much better than meeting Aaron’s intense stare.

However, the sound of rustling papers grabbed her attention, forcing her to look at him and the papers he had tossed at the center table.

He inclined his head, a silent message and Ivette leaned over, grabbing the sheets.

Her eyes grazed the heading and drooped lower and—her breath caught.

It was absurd.

“The profits and investments tripled over the past few days. Surely, you would have noticed if you weren’t busy fucking the Scottish bastard,” Aaron drawled and it took all of Ivette’s willpower not to grab her glass of wine and toss it in his face.

The profits had indeed increased. CG Enterprise was still ahead of them by a slight margin, but judging by the figures on the report she held, she knew they would be pulling the reins in a day or two. It was incredible, and she might have rejoiced if she didn’t understand what it meant.

Aaron’s gaze raked over her, watching her every move as he said, “One mistake from you, one mistake on your end, and we lose this. Everything crumbles. Everything falls apart. It takes only one rumor to start that fire. Just one.” He paused and dragged a heavy hand through his blonde hair, ruining the swoosh of it. “Why him, Ivy? Wasn’t I good enough for you?”

Her eyes stung and she bit the inside of her cheek, relishing the mild pain that came from it. Anything to stop those tears from falling. Anything at all. “I’m sorry. I need some time to—”

“You have until the wedding to get your shit together. We will get married, and you will forget about him.”

Ivette’s chest heaved and she whispered, “I can’t marry you, Ron. Not like this.”

“Because of him?”

Ivette control slipped its leash and she was on her feet before she realized it. “No! You, Father, the company—I am drowning, Aaron! I have been for a damn long time and you failed—FAILED—to notice this. It was never about us, or this relationship for you. Eight years! Eight fucking years of my effort and unrequited energy! And you ask me to be your wife, not because you want to be with me, but for a stupid merger?!”

Aaron stood, meeting her blazing gaze with his angry one. “It does not excuse what you did—”

“Oh, go to hell, Aaron. That is not the point! You knew what it meant to me. You knew how much I placed into King Corp—my entire life. It was to you I came and in your arms, I cried when I was forced to leave my dreams behind to become CEO. It was with you I celebrated my first win, and my first loss, we fucked until I couldn’t think about it anymore or cry about it. Still—STILL—you didn’t think twice or think to let me know before you stole it from me. Not one apology. Business! You called it business! My feelings, my love, my heart—”

Ivette’s voice broke and a single tear rolled down her right cheek. “I gave you everything, and you called it business. A fucking transaction. You truly are despicable and are no different from Father. Use me and discard me when I am no longer of use to you. Good enough for me? You’re a fucking leech! You take and take and you won’t stop taking until there is nothing left—”

Pain exploded in her right cheek and Ivette stumbled several steps back, trying to comprehend what the pain was—where it came from. She tried to wrap her head around the possibility of it, the possibility of Aaron laying a hand on her and she failed.

Aaron’s eyes widened slightly as Ivette’s hands lifted to her throbbing cheek. “You. . .you hit me.”

It was more of a confirmation than it was a question and she sucked in a sharp breath, unable to get in the air.

“You hit me,” she whispered.

“Ivy,” Aaron said carefully, taking slow steps toward her, but Ivette shuffled backwards, needing to get away from him.

Aaron lunged for her before she could make it to the master bedroom’s door and she yelped when his fingers found her shoulder.

“Ivy—please,” he said, eyes wide with panic and remorse. His hands roamed her cheeks, her face and he pulled her to his chest, planting kisses on the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry. You pushed me. . .I didn’t mean to. . .I love you, Ivy. It hurts when you speak that way. It hurt that you cheated. . .I can’t bear it. . .couldn’t—I’m sorry, Ivy,” he murmured against her hair, pulling her closer to his chest, even as she struggled against him, sobbing. “Ivy. . .please,” His voice was raw and his hands tightened against her like he expected her to walk away the next minute. “I hate this. I hate all of this. I shouldn’t have. Fuck—I’m sorry.”

“Release me,” she cried. “Let me go, Ron!”

“No. I can’t. I’m sorry, Ivy. I wasn’t thinking—I’ll do anything, anything to take that back.” He shook and his tight grip was ripping the air from her faster than she expected. “It’s this place and that man. We’ll return home and get married and everything will be fine again—”

Ivette breathed in deeply, trying to quench the sobs. “I can’t marry you—”

“Don’t say that!” He yelled, pulling away for long enough to peer into her face. His hands gripped either side of her cheeks. “You know me, Ivette. You know who I am. This is not me. You pushed me. This is your fault. We wouldn’t be having so many problems if you didn’t cheat on me. But I will never raise a hand on you again, I promise. Please, let it go.”

He said and Ivette’s lips quivered as she parted them to decline but his lips met hers in a soft kiss. An apology. A promise.

And though Ivette didn’t want the apology, or Aaron anywhere near her, she shut her eyes and let it be.

****

“Oh. That is absolutely lovely,” Kerry cooed, circling Ivette like she was prey to be hunted. Ivette stared as her mother and Kerry fawned over the glittering gown she had put on with a detached expression. No one seemed to notice the bleak look in the bride’s eyes and how she had not smiled since they had entered the luxury boutique for wedding dresses.

“The neckline does seem a tad too high. It doesn’t quite show off her neck and collarbone,” Amelia said, picking at the neckline of the dress, and Ivette stared and stared at nothing in particular as the two women suddenly found the dress displeasing.

She returned ten minutes later in another dress. It was the eleventh dress she was trying out, and she wasn’t quite interested in any of them. She needed time alone. Time to herself. Time away from all of the chaos that had now become her life. Aaron. King Corp. The merger. She needed time off from it.

But she couldn’t have that.

So she looked forward to the early evening event. She looked forward to getting drunk at the bar and being slammed into oblivion once more.

“I love this one!” Amelia squealed, taking Ivette’s hand and spinning her around so she could take a proper look at the wedding dress. It was a form-fitting gown that hugged Ivette’s upper body as well as her lower half before it transformed into a mermaid’s tail.

Ivette thought it was stunning too.

But Kerry didn’t seem pleased. “It shows too much of her. . .figure. Perhaps, something less obscene.”

Obscene? Ivette pondered and peered down at the white dress. It left little to imagine with her curves but Aaron had seen her with and in less. True, she was on the curvy side—extremely curvy side—but she found nothing wrong with it.

Kerry’s nose scrunched up with disapproval and it was for the very same reason that Ivette smiled at the shop owner who had been standing with them for the past hour and half and said, “We’ll take this one.”

She turned, not giving them the chance to disregard her options and she strolled into the dressing room, shutting the door behind her.

Ivette stared into the mirror, bracing her hands on the counter. Tired and hollow hazel-green eyes stared back at her. Underneath her makeup, the skin of her right cheekbone was dark and slightly discolored, but no one would notice, not until they wiped off the layers of foundation she had on.

Not that they were ever going to look. Not that anyone cared enough to see her being consumed from the inside.

She let out a breath and began taking off the dress.