Zoey’s p. o. v
I was frozen in the spot.
For a moment, my breath caught in my throat, and my brain refused to function.
I felt the rest of the world fading away, and the room closing in on me. My eyes picking him out and blocking everyone else.
I blinked, once, twice, and for the third time, thinking I was hallucinating. The man sitting behind the desk in front of Matthew was none other than my husband my supposedly dead husband.
Marco.
For the love of God, my freaking husband, whom we all thought was dead is sitting here, before my eyes.
Confusion and disbelief warred within me as I tried to make sense of the impossible sight before me. Marco had died in the fire accident seven months ago, or so I had been told.
“Donna.” Matthew freaked out, rushing to hold me as my legs buckled. I lift my hand, stopping him, supporting myself by leaning against the closest wall.
“Marco?” I whispered, my voice barely audible. I was afraid that speaking too loud would shatter the fragile illusion in front of me.
His eyes were on me, held my gaze. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions. Before he broke the stare.
I watched as Marco spoke quietly to Matthew, his voice low and soothing. Matthew nodded in response, then leaving with the other men.
I could see the tension in his body, the way his hands clenched and unclenched on the armrests of the chair he sat in.
I tried to speak, to demand an explanation from him, but the words stuck in my throat. Marco took up from his seat, trekking the short distance between. His imposing figure, looming over mine.
I felt a surge of anger and confusion wash over me. How could he just waltz back into my life like this? How dare he put me through the pain of believing he was gone forever, only to reappear out of nowhere?
The grief and heartache of losing him had been unbearable, and I had spent countless nights crying myself to sleep, unable to accept that he was gone.
“Baby.” I suck in deep breath, closing my eyes unconsciously. “I missed you.” The sound of his voice is a breath of fresh air.
I thought I was never going to hear this voice again, hoarse and bold just as I remember.
His fingers skimmed my arms, sending shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling of his hands exploring my skin with gentle reverence. It was as if every touch were a silent reminder of whom my body belongs to.
He bent down to my level, his breath fanning my neck. I could feel the warmth of his lips as they brushed against my skin, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. My heart skipped a beat, I have missed this, I craved his touches.
At that moment, everything else faded away. It was just him and me, lost in our own little world. Or maybe I was the only one lost at the moment.
Suddenly, I snapped out of the trance, coming fully to my senses.
Before I could control myself, my hand flew across the air, landing perfectly on his cheeks. His face tilted to the other side from the impact of the slap, I gave him another slap when he lifts his face up.
“How dare you.” I growled, going in for the third slap, but he easily caught my hand this time.
Marco’s grip on my hand tightened, jaw clenched as he stared down at me.
“You need to be fucking careful, you’re pregnant, for fuck’s sake.” His eyes rested on my big belly, my stomach was the hindrance between us hence, he would have smashed our bodies together.
“Don’t you dare.” I hissed when he brought his hand up to touch my stomach. “You have lost that right.” He hasn’t lost his I was just being angry and hurt.
How could he? How could he lie to me? The pain I went through? For seven freaking months, I’ve lived in pain. I had mourned his loss, accepted the fact that he was never coming back. But here he was, alive and well, sitting calmly in front of me as if nothing had happened.
“Why.” He should be explaining himself, but instead he was just watching like I was being too dramatic.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Was his words, I stare at him, a loss for words. Of all the things I wanted to hear and expected him to say, what he had to tell me was that I shouldn’t be here?
“Really? That’s what you have to say?” I was getting pissed more, I at least expected an explanation. “Where should I have been?”
“Home, resting and not worrying about any fucking shit in the world.” He stared at me dead in the eyes when saying those words.
I swallowed, the lump in my throat hurt.
I shouldn’t been worried about anything in the world, when I was mourning my husband’s death. How could I not be worried?
“I shouldn’t be worried? Do you have any idea the pain I went through?”
“This place isn’t good for you, Matthew will take you out.” He said instead, easily avoiding any questions I have. ” I will join you in the room in two hours time.”
Matthew resurfaced immediately Marco said that, I was boiling in rage. My heart was beating faster each second, I was visibly shaking from all the anger in me.
“Donna.” He stretch out his hand in the direction of a door, not the one I came in with.
My glare intensifies, shooting daggers at both of them. I pull away from Marco, matching in the direction Matthew pointed at.
I was angry, but thrilled.