Chapter 4 Quatre
"You ain't never been in-love until you've begged God to help you let go." ~ unknown.
He looked at her beautiful face as her eyes slammed closed when he thrust into her. She let out a moan cursing incoherent words. Her lips seemed so inviting, he pressed his lips on top of?hers.?He could never get used to the feeling of being inside her, from their wedding night ;he knew he was hooked. He loved her with his heart and soul. She was the woman of his dreams, Della was the woman whom he would spend the rest of his life with.
He gave her slow deep strokes continuously and she arched her back enjoying the feeling of her husband being deep inside her core. She loved him so much, he made her feel special every single day and night which is now. She opened her eyes and let out another moan while looking into his sparking ocean blue eyes. She let her hands hang loose around her husbands shoulders.
After an amazing time, they both reached their climax. "I love you so much chéri." Andre whispered as he put a strand of her brunette hair behind her ear. She blushed, she always felt shy, no matter how many times they had made love. "I want you forever ma moité" He whispered his warm breath tickling her neck. He felt like the luckiest man alive, from the day he laid his eyes upon her ; he knew right there and there she was the one.
The sound of a knock on the door stirred him from his sleep. He opened his eyes and looked to his right only to see an empty space. "Stupid dreams." He hissed throwing the pillow off his King size bed. It was not the first time that he had a dream about his ex-wife but now it was just heart-rending or rather cheerless. The knock on the door reminded him of the reason why he had woken up from his dream... he thought he was over that phase of?wet dreams.
"Se?or, Breakfast is ready downstairs." Marta said on the other side of the door but her voice was quite audible inside the room even though, not so long ago. He had made sure the walls to his master bedroom were soundproof for various reasons. He remembered how Della laughed at his ludicrous idea at the time.
"Yes,?bien?Marta." He replied in his French accent. Andre just couldn't get her off his damn mind. The whole weekend, she was all he thought about. Having had that conversation with her on Friday, he felt sick at heart. He had a son named Leondre, he was a father. The thought made him smile even though things weren't in the right order at the moment, he knew he would have his family back in this very same house.
A part of him felt guilty as the water droplets fell on his blonde hair in the shower. He knew a part of him did not want to sell this house because there resided a lot of memories. Della had chosen this mansion because she loved the huge maze garden in the backyard. Andre remembered the event that happened when he slapped his wife hard until she hit the floor. He was so angry, he couldn't control it. Jeanine had specifically told her to leave and never come back but she did and it ended with her earning a hard slap from her husband. This was something he had wanted to forget, guilt ate him inside now knowing that at that very moment she was pregnant with their son.?
"Andre, I need to tell you something please just give me a few minutes." Della said tears streaming down her cheeks. She still laid on the tiled floor where she had landed when Andre hit her coldly.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP. JUST SHUT IT, I TOLD YOU I DON'T EVER WANT TO SEE YOU ANYWHERE NEAR ME EVER AGAIN YOU CHEATING WHORE OR PERRA PENDEJA WHATEVER YOU LATINAS CALL IT. YOUR FATHER KNEW WHAT HE WAS DOING WHEN HE LEFT BECAUSE YOU ARE A DAMN CURSE. NO WONDER YOUR MOTHER DOESN'T EVEN WANT YOU AROUND. I'M SO DISGUSTED TO HAVE FELL FOR A CUNNING WOMEN LIKE YOU. DELLA YOU SHOULD HAVE NEVER BEEN BORN MAYBE YOU WOULD HAVE DONE US ALL A FAVOUR. YOU WERE A MISTAKE."
After those words, Della picked herself up. Tears running down her cheeks like Niagara Falls or rather Victoria Falls ; they just kept coming. Andre was glad she was leaving finally although a part of him felt heart sickened.
He had not realized how long he had been standing in the shower emotionless reminiscing the past event that happened seven years ago. He remembered every word he had said to her and he couldn't help but grow strong hatred for his mother. This was all her fault, six years of unhappiness were her fault. His son growing up without a father was her fault. Breaking Della's heart was her fault. He didn't even understand whether it was water droplets or his tears on his cheeks. The stubble was visible, he needed to shave. He hated shaving ever since Della left ;this? was something they used to do together. She didn't mind helping him shave and giving him kisses on the tiny cuts right after.
After the divorce he was a wreck. His beard grew distasteful giving the press something to write about about. He stopped caring about his image from there on. He could only imagine how much worse it had been for Della...
Pregnant and Divorced.