It was as if a bucket of chilled water had been thrown over her body. Instinctively, her body became tense.
She never imagined she would be reminded of her mistake or that it would come rushing back in such a harsh manner.
Her eyes remained fixed on her thighs, her hand forming a fist between them, betraying her nervousness.
Simeon had no idea how much internal turmoil his words and reminders had caused her.
Yes, she cheated on her husband, but must she always be reminded of it?
Irene took a deep breath, finally emerging from her conflicted thoughts. She spoke softly, her voice hoarse from hesitation and lack of clarity.
"What... what is the media saying about it?"
Her eyes slipped to the car window, the city streets a blur as they sped by. The headlights of passing cars pierced the growing dusk, casting fleeting shafts of light that brushed her face in shadowy patterns.
Irene focused on the motion outside, hoping the speed might quiet the storm inside her.
But no matter how fast they drove, she couldn't shake the sinking guilt his words had brought.
Simeon stared at Irene, hesitating before finally speaking.
"Don't worry. It's just a picture of you and the strange man entering the room." He paused, his voice faltering midway. "You were drunk, you know."
While driving, his eyes didn't miss the flicker of emotions crossing her face. Her expression hinted at anger, her posture stiff. It was almost as if she was mad at him again.
Irene's nails dug into her palms as frustration boiled inside her. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, born of anger rather than sadness. Finally, she snapped, her voice sharp.
"Can you just stop? You don't have to keep reminding me that I cheated on you."
The tone of his words felt accusatory, offensive even. They weren't close, and communication between them had always been strained. She knew she had cheated, but why did his tone make her feel like the villain all over again?
Simeon spoke, his voice tinged with hurt.
"What did I say or do wrong? I didn't mean to remind you. If I'm making you uncomfortable or if there's something bothering you, just tell me."
He never intended to upset her or point fingers, but Irene was too sensitive about the issue. His words always seemed to come out wrong, spoiling the moment.
He regretted bringing up the topic, especially now, when his purpose had only been to warn her about the paparazzi.
Irene caught a glimpse of the emotion in Simeon's eyes. She couldn't quite place it, but it made her feel guilty. She realized she had been too harsh.
She pressed her lips into a thin line before her expression softened slightly. Her eyes flickered toward Simeon, meeting his gaze briefly before darting away.
"Why," she began reflectively, her tone accusing, "do you keep emphasizing the words 'strange man'? I feel like you're judging me."
She hated how weak and defensive her words sounded, but the bitterness in her chest grew too quickly to push down.
Simeon's face hardened, his jaw clenching as he caught her reflection in the rearview mirror. Bitterness rose within him, uninvited and cold, like a spring thaw.
He had promised himself he wouldn't bring this up today, but the words had slipped out, and now she was lashing back. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as he fought to keep his temper in check.
"I'm not judging you. I don't judge. I won't judge you, Irene," he said, his voice steady but jaded.
"Then stop saying things that make me feel guilty!" Irene bit back, her voice laced with bitterness. "I've already told you. If you're uncomfortable with me, divorce me! But you won't. You just want to keep me here, tied to you. What do you want from me?"
The drama in her heart swirled once more. If he wasn't judging her, then what was his attitude about? Why did his expression feel so condemning? She couldn't understand his mood swings.
Simeon clenched his fist tightly, his voice rising in frustration.
"Irene, you're making me lose my patience. As a man, I watched my wife in the arms of another man. I didn't judge you. I brought you home safe and sound. And all I get from you—" His voice flattened with hurt. "—is disdain and cold distance."
His chest heaved, his emotions barely contained. He had only ever tried to protect her, to shield her dignity from being tarnished by others. But instead of appreciation, all he received was cold indifference and disrespect.
Irene narrowed her eyes. His words stung, and the realization of how he truly saw her cut deep.
"So that's how it is, Mr. Alpha Simeon Kings," she said sarcastically, her tone sharp and serious. "You want me to bow down and thank you for not disgracing me in public? For not casting me out of your home? Is that what you wanted?"
She had been uncomfortable in this marriage for so long. Divorce was what she had been longing for, and now it seemed like the only logical end. But Simeon—he only wanted to play with her emotions. Couldn't she be free of this endless cycle?
"If you're ever expecting gratitude from me, divorce is still an option," she spat. "Disgracing me would lead to the same result. At least it would be over."
With that, she closed her eyes, retreating into her own mind, blocking him out like a barrier of silence.
Simeon's face grew colder, his jaw tightening as his emotions swirled, unstable and bitter. He could feel the hatred radiating from her.
In the back of his mind, his werewolf's voice growled, "She's too hot-tempered. You shouldn't have brought this up now. She needs discipline. Let me out, and I'll show her who she belongs to."
Simeon shut down the voice firmly, annoyed by its persistence. "Shut up, Lauren, and go to sleep," he muttered internally.
He wouldn't be reckless. He was trying to make Irene like him to repair their broken relationship. Letting Lauren take control wasn't the solution.