"I don't really feel well, Sarah," I admit, my voice low as a wave of dizziness sweeps over me. My head feels heavy, i hate it when this happens, i mean please. why heads hurt so much in this kinda situation, my body detached. Something isn't right.
Sarah's eyes widen with concern, alert mode on,"Are you okay, Andria? Do you want to go home?" Her face is so worried that it almost makes her look like an anxious grandma, her usual sharpness softened by genuine fear for me.
I force a weak smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Don't worry so much or your makeup will melt off," I joke, even though the room feels like it's spinning around me but trying to act nonchalant in the worst situations possible is my shit.
"Shut up and sit still," she scolds, but there's no bite in her voice. She quickly excuses herself to talk to Barnard, arranging for me to leave quietly without drawing attention, being the centre of attention sucks right? - now im trying to act self centred to keep my mood up. I didn't want to make a scene by leaving through the front so soon, so she was planning a discreet exit through the back.
I sit there, trying my best to appear, i don't know, less weird i guess? like everything is perfectly fine. But inside, my heart is racing. My skin prickles with unease, a strange coldness creeping over me. The party buzzes on around me, but I feel disconnected, my senses dulled, the noise of the room distant.
Then, a sudden chill brushes my shoulder, sending shivers down my spine. It's a familiar feeling, one that stirs something deep in my chest—familiar, yet unsettling. I freeze, my breath hitching as I turn slowly, almost too afraid of what I might see.
And there he is.Christian Grey. Standing right behind me.
His presence looms, radiating the same aura that once made my heart race for entirely different reasons. My eyes lock on his, and for a moment, I can't move. It's like time stops, the world around us disappearing.
The man who shattered me, the man I thought I'd buried in the past, is standing right here, inches away.
Christian. Fucking. Grey.
the guy who i married, now ex husband, standing right behind me, looking straight into my eyes as if he can see my soul begging him to leave. if he really could see that, i bet he would enjoy. i bet it will satisfy his ego.
that's what he's always like. not different from my father, nothing matters more to him than his ego.
it's laughable how i really thought for once that's he's not the person he portrays. i thought he's genuine, but even the word "fraud" hesitates infront of him.