Third person's pov
Eating breakfast with the person who almost drowned you to death was simply, awkward and unbearably tense. Whenever their eyes meet, she would get reminded of the events of the early morning. Resulting in trembling slightly. Avoiding his eyes. She can't help it. It's stuck to her. And will always be as a warning to not provoke him. Swallowing the food was like gulping sand down her throat. It's bland to her palate. He made it. Indian dishes. Why bother considering her preferences? He clearly showed her what she is in his eyes, just a possession, to whom he can do whatever. No questions asked. Even if it meant death. It's fine. Just a possession. Nothing more or less. For her, he is satan. Devil incarnate. Not her husband. And today he proved, he doesn't deserve even a chance from her if she ever was to give, for their relationship. It's not a relationship. It's a compromise from her side. And his ownership. The evil cage he has trapped her into, he owns it. Not her. Never. And she will escape it, not today, but someday. Her God is with her, she will be liberated, fighting through every evil, and cruelty. She is from a land of fighters. She will eventually win. Good always wins over evil.
Quickly finishing the food, she stood up with the plates and went to wash them. Elijah observed her since the moment she came down dressed in a floral summer dress looking gorgeous. His heart swelled with pride, the beauty she is belongs to him, only him. But strangely, something else filled his chest which overflowed and dominated his pride. Worry. For her. Is she fine now, feeling better, mentally and emotionally? He wanted to ask her but his ego wouldn't let him. She is not important to him, of course, possession-wise she is, but not on an emotional, conscious, relation level. He wouldn't ever let her be. His conscience told him to check on her and reprimanded him for his evilness. Nothing. He didn't do anything. He can't. He is Elijah Ian Mancini. The king of the world. The invincible. Nothing affected him. So he thought. Today, almost coming to lose her proved him wrong. She affected him. When did he let that happen, why did he let that happen, he shouldn't have? He doesn't know when she started to matter to him, the thought of not having her in his arms, before his eyes, scared him. He didn't want to be scared. He is Elijah Ian Mancini for goodness' sake, whom everybody fears. He wants these strange feelings to go away, giving in to them will result in great pain. He knows. He has gone through it before. Not again. He doesn't repeat his mistakes. Which stopped him from asking her, hugging her, kissing her fears away, soothing her. He simply ate his breakfast without a word to her. He watched her wash dishes after they both were done.
Her face was blank. She gave away nothing. Like she didn't almost die today. But he knew better. He saw past her brave facade of nonchalance. How whenever her eyes met his, she immediately looked away, blinking her lashes several times, how her hands trembled slightly, how she swallowed the food without chewing properly like eating was a chore, how she lowly breathed air out of her mouth, how her nose turned red. He noticed it all, he is not stupid. Even an idiot can see it. His heart ached to see her holding in her cries, not showing her vulnerability to him. He knows for her he is not someone to share her pain and hurt. Which was enough to make him sad, strangely. He was aware of these feelings. What that meant. But he is not ready to accept them. It's way too early and even if in the future he won't accept them. Relationships are waste of time, they only give pain and hurt. His heart protested which he avoided. It wanted him to take her pain away. He can't do that. His chest felt heavy and a gloominess engulfed him. He didn't like her sad and hurt for sure and he was hurt too seeing her so. For the sanity of them both, he decided to take her mind off it. To make her forget it which is difficult but, he is Elijah Ian Mancini for nothing.
He approached her when she was done. She was slightly startled when he suddenly stood behind her when she turned. She sucks in a deep breath to calm herself. He gently held her hand and led them outside towards the beach. He admires her for how strong she is to hold all in after what happened. And everything until now. She is brave. This makes him like her more. Yes, he knows he likes her, but he didn't accept it just. Upon reaching the beach, he turned to her. Her hair flew with the soft breeze of ocean wind, her skin glowed under the sun rays, her black eyes slowly taking in the oceanic blue before her, the blackness in them as deep as the ocean, her lips parted and she heaved a deep soothing breath, her face, slowly relaxed. He felt calmer. He knew she loved the beach, the excitement, and bravado she had when he first saw her if told anything. Her information file also told him the same. His doe loves beaches. This was the perfect environment for an apology from him. She will get a push to forget the unfortunate event. His heart chanted to him to apologize but his ego stopped him. He intertwined their fingers. She resisted in reflex, unlike till now when she simply obeyed him. She was coming back to herself. He smiled gently at her despite himself, his body was listening to his heart instead of his mind which screamed to let her be. He opened his mouth to say something to make the situation better, like himself, he was not being himself, saying something arrogant but his worries took the better of him,
"I know you love the beach, it will calm you"
He smacked himself on his head. It's not supposed to be like this. She was surprised to hear him. She was getting enraged by him playing a concerned husband. But what he said struck her heart. She for the first time after the incident looked at him directly in the eyes, gaze shifting from the ocean to his handsome slightly smiling slightly frowning face. It was a first for her to see him confused and not sure of himself. It didn't matter to her though. She doesn't care. He is nothing to her. Anything about him doesn't matter. He is satan. Holding his gaze, she stated,
"I hate the beach from the moment I met you which led me here"
Her voice sounded spiteful to his ears. His hold loosened upon hearing her. She removed her hand and turned going back to the house saying,
"I am going to take a nap"
She didn't wait for him. For anything to say. He looked at her disappearing figure. His heart ached weirdly. Her words honestly hurt him. The thought of her hating the thing she loved the most pained him. He wondered how much she despises him. He knows it's expected after the things he did to her. Still, it hurts him. Her hate. This is what he is avoiding. The unwanted emotions and feelings which come. It's inevitable though. He knows. He is in for more. Sighing, he sat down facing the ocean.
Meera looked at him sitting on the sand through the ceiling-to-floor window in their bedroom. A tear escaped her eyes. He snatched the love of the beach from her. She hates them now. It led her to him. He is responsible for it. She hates him. Clenching her eyes and fists, she screams. Panting she looks at him enjoying the beach which she loved to do. He took it away from her. She hates him. Drawing the curtains close forcefully and roughly, she lays on the bed closing her eyes.
He is giving space to her to sort herself out, she needs it. A few times away is what they both need to sort out their feelings.