Game

Abby sat at the breakfast table, her gaze fixed on her plate as she carefully spread butter on a piece of toast. Remo, sitting across from her, looked sheepish but amused. He twirled a fork in his eggs, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the clinking of cutlery.

Abby's lips were pursed, and her brows were slightly furrowed, clearly showing her displeasure.

She took a deliberate sip of her orange juice, still refusing to meet Remo's eyes. Remo, attempting to lighten the tension, cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, uh, Abby, how's that toast? Extra crispy, just how you like it?" he ventured, his tone a mix of playful and softness.

Abby's jaw tightened, but she remained silent, her eyes now fixated on a spot on the wall. Remo sighed softly, realizing the depth of his mistake. He put down his fork and leaned forward, his voice gentler this time.

"Look, Abby, I'm sorry for teasing you this morning. It was all in good fun. I didn't mean to upset you." He watched her closely, waiting for a reaction.

After a moment that felt like an eternity, Abby's shoulders relaxed slightly. She glanced at Remo from the corner of her eye, her expression softening.

While her irritation was still evident, the tight grip of her anger seemed to loosen just a little. She poked at her scrambled eggs, still not speaking but allowing the tension to dissipate slowly.

"Oh come on sweetheart, you can't be mad forever. I'm your loving husband and don't pretend that you weren't enjoying our little game."

Abby's face flushed remembering the feel of his body on top of her. Her lips parted as her pulse continued to hammer through her body.

"N-no I wasn't." She replied avoiding his gaze.

Remo tsked with a click of his tongue scowling playfully, "Lying isn't very nice and you're awful at it."

Abby sighed. She didn't understand what he wanted from her. She thought Remo Quinn was going to be the cold, dangerous villain she had heard about but he seemed nothing like it.

He was like a mischievous little boy. Everything was a game to him and she was already getting sick and tired of him playing with her emotions.

It's her first time feeling all of these emotions and she didn't know how to handle them.

"Why did you do that Remo? I-I thought you would never touch me—is this—a game to you too?" She dared to ask.

He tilted his head,squinting his eyes briefly.

"No."

Abby let out a frustrated huff, her irritation bubbling over her frantic rant of questions.

"Then why do you care about me? Why did you let your workers welcome and give me congratulations messages when you know this marriage is fake? Why did you remove my heels and treat me so well? Why-Why- did—you—look like you wanted to kiss me this morning?"

He furrowed his brows as she bombarded him with questions. He leaned back in his chair as he raised his brows after she was done as if to ask her that's it?

She raised her brows back at him expectantly, folding her arms over her chest. His eyes flicked over her face as he pursed his lips thoughtfully, but then he just shrugged his brows.

"Does it matter? I was just trying to be nice. You want me to be rude and cold to you?" he asked.

"T-that's not…"

"Don't think I care about you or anything. I'm just nice because you're Izabella's friend."

Well he didn't have to rub it in, Jesus, point taken.

Abby's frustration grew as Remo's nonchalant response hit her. She leaned back in her chair, feeling a mix of irritation and confusion. It seemed like he was deliberately evading her questions, and his dismissive attitude only fueled her uncertainty.

She realized that unraveling Remo's intentions was going to be more complex than she initially thought. The air between them held a tension that wasn't just from their earlier teasing. With a heavy sigh, she pushed her plate away and stood up, her chair scraping against the floor.

"Fine, Remo. Just... forget it," she muttered, her voice tinged with a mixture of resignation and defiance. As she turned to leave the room, he called out softly, "Abby, wait."

She paused, but she didn't turn around. Remo's voice had a different quality now, a trace of vulnerability that she hadn't heard before. "Look, I might not be the best at this kind of thing. Emotions and all. But I didn't mean to upset you."

Abby hesitated, her grip on the doorframe tightening. She wasn't sure whether to believe him, whether this was just another one of his games. She turned to glance at him over her shoulder, her expression guarded.

"Believe it or not, Abby, I'm still trying to figure this out too. This marriage might be fake but at least I hope we can be friends," he said, his eyes holding a sincerity that surprised her.

She searched his face for any signs of deception but found none. With a sigh of her own, she finally nodded, her stance relaxing slightly. "A-Alright, Remo. But just so you know, I won't be played with."

He offered her a small, genuine smile. "Fair enough. I'll try to tone down the games."

As Abby left the room, she felt a mix of emotions swirling within her. This situation was far from what she had anticipated, and the enigma that was Remo Quinn was proving to be more complex than she had ever imagined