Chapter 4 Leaving Me Behind for Her Once More

Vera's POV

I rose on unsteady legs, my mind racing. Had something changed? Was this the beginning of something new between us?

Betty embraced me warmly at the door, whispering, "Don't give up on him yet, dear. There's a good man in there somewhere."

I clung to those words during the silent drive home, stealing glances at Idris's profile in the dim light. The strong line of his jaw, the subtle clench of his teeth.

The unexpected defense at dinner had ignited a dangerous spark of hope in my chest. Maybe, just maybe, he still cared.

My heart was still racing when we entered our bedroom. I removed my earrings at the vanity. The atmosphere felt charged, different somehow from our usual strained silence.

Suddenly, his arms encircled me from behind, strong and possessive. His body pressed against mine, radiating heat through the thin fabric of my dress. Hot breath tickled my ear and neck as he pulled me tight against his chest.

"Idris..." My surprised gasp was cut short.

He spun me around forcefully, his dark eyes burning with an intensity I hadn't seen in years. Before I could process what was happening, his mouth crashed down on mine.

This wasn't the perfunctory peck he sometimes offered in public. This was hungry, demanding, all-consuming. His tongue pushed past my lips, tasting of whiskey and desire, exploring me with an urgency that left me dizzy.

My body responded before my mind could catch up, melting against him as years of longing surged to the surface. His hands were everywhere, tangling in my hair, gripping my waist, sliding lower to knead the flesh of my hips.

"Don't we need to make a baby?" he growled against my lips, his voice husky with need.

The question sent liquid heat pooling low in my belly. Was this happening? Was he finally, truly wanting me?

I closed my eyes and surrendered, arching into him as his kisses traveled down my neck. His fingers found the zipper at my back, tugging impatiently until the dress loosened. Cool air kissed my exposed skin as the fabric slipped down, pooling at my feet.

Idris pulled back just enough to take in the sight of me in my delicate lace underwear. The hunger in his eyes was intoxicating. I hadn't felt desired—truly desired—by him in so long that I trembled under his gaze.

His hands gripped my waist, lifting me effortlessly onto the vanity. Perfume bottles scattered as he stepped between my knees, reclaiming my mouth in another searing kiss. I tugged at his tie, fumbling with the knot, desperate to feel his skin against mine.

His shirt buttons gave way beneath my fingers, revealing the taut muscles of his chest. I ran my palms over the warm expanse, remembering how it used to feel to have him want me this way.

"God, Vera," he murmured against my collarbone, teeth grazing sensitive skin. One hand slipped beneath my bra, cupping my breast, thumb circling the sensitive peak until I gasped.

Time seemed suspended as we rediscovered each other. My entire body throbbed with need, every nerve ending alive and singing. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, feeling the hard evidence of his arousal pressing against me.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties, about to pull them down—

The shrill ring of his phone shattered the moment like glass.

Idris froze, his breath hot against my breast. For one breathless moment, I thought, prayed, he would ignore it.

Then I saw the screen lighting up on the nightstand: Raven Hill

Ice flooded my veins. I watched in slow-motion horror as his expression transformed—desire replaced by concern, then urgent focus. He pulled away from me, leaving my body cold and bereft.

"You should answer," I whispered, hating how my voice shook.

He glanced at me, conflict flashing briefly across his face before he reached for the phone. "Raven?" His voice instantly softened to a tenderness I'd never heard directed at me.

"Idris... I'm so sick... fever... alone..." Raven's weak, tearful voice carried clearly through the speaker. "Scared... can't breathe... am I dying?"

Idris jerked away from me completely, his face transformed by alarm. "What's your temperature? Have you taken anything? Stay calm, I'm coming right now." He was already buttoning his shirt with one hand, tucking it haphazardly into his pants.

"Idris," I reached for him, my fingers brushing the cool fabric of his shirt.

"She's sick, running a high fever. I need to go right now." He didn't even look at me, focused entirely on the phone. "Don't worry, Raven. Just lie down, I'll be there soon."

"But we were just—" I gestured helplessly to my nearly naked body, evidence of our interrupted passion still visible in the flush of my skin.

"Another time." He fastened his tie, fingers fumbling with haste. "Raven's health has always been fragile. She gets pneumonia easily when she has a fever. She's all alone over there. I can't just ignore that. You're an adult, you should understand."

Another time? Understand? I wanted to laugh, but my throat constricted with bitter hurt. In his mind, his wife—left half-naked and wanting in the height of passion—ranked below his ex-girlfriend's fever?

"Idris, I'm your wife!" The words tore from my throat, raw and desperate.

He paused briefly, finally turning to look at me. My heart stuttered, hoping for... what? An apology? A change of heart?

"I know." His voice was coolly detached, tinged with impatience. "But Raven needs me right now. She's been alone abroad for years, her health is poor... just be reasonable about this."

Reasonable? The knife in my heart twisted deeper. In his eyes, I would forever be second to Raven. My needs, my feelings, even my place in his bed was negotiable when she called.

"I have to go. Get some sleep." He grabbed his car keys and strode toward the door without a backward glance.

The door closed with a definitive click, leaving me alone with the cooling impression of his hands on my skin and the bitter taste of once again being insufficient.