Chereads / The Diary Of A Mistress / Chapter 27 - High tension

Chapter 27 - High tension

I continued exploring the house, my curiosity still piqued. Each room revealed little about Clyde's personality, leaving me wondering where the hints of his passions and interests lay.

As I wandered down a long hallway, my footsteps quiet on the plush carpet, I failed to notice a loose rug. My heel caught, and I felt myself stumbling.

Strong arms enveloped me, catching me mid-fall. Clyde's face appeared inches from mine, concern etched on his features.

"Dahlia, careful," he whispered, his voice low and soothing, sending shivers down my spine.

His hold on me was tender, yet firm, radiating warmth.

My leg throbbed, threatening to buckle. I bit my lip, wanting to shake off the pain and maintain my dignity.

But Clyde's grip only tightened.

"Don't move," he said, his eyes scanning mine, filled with genuine concern. "You're hurt."

Embarrassment washed over me.

"I'm fine," I protested, trying to brush off his concern.

Clyde's expression remained skeptical.

"Please, don't wander around much," he asked, his voice soft and gentle. "I don't want you getting hurt."

His words, laced with genuine concern, made my heart flutter.

Before I could respond, Clyde swept me up in his arms, cradling me against his chest. His hold was gentle, yet reassuring.

I felt weightless, my pain momentarily forgotten.

As he carried me back to the living room, I couldn't help but notice the warmth of his body and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners.

The scent of cedar and leather enveloped me once more, intoxicating.

My leg still throbbed, but Clyde's proximity distracted me.

He set me down on the couch, his hands lingering on my shoulders.

"Stay here," he said, his eyes locked on mine. "I'll get ice for your ankle."

I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude.

As Clyde disappeared into the kitchen, I couldn't shake the sensation of his tender touch.

As Clyde's gentle fingers applied the ointment, I felt a surge of nostalgia.

Memories flooded my mind - the way he used to care for me when we were dating.

The soft touch, the concerned gaze, the protective nature.

It all came rushing back, and for a moment, I forgot.

Forgot that he was now my brother-in-law.

Forgot that our past was just that - the past.

But reality snapped back into focus, and I gently pulled my leg away.

"Clyde, I think that's enough," I said, trying to sound calm.

His eyes met mine, a flicker of understanding passing between us.

"Sorry," he said softly. "I just want to help."

I forced a smile.

"I appreciate it, but I'm fine now."

Clyde nodded, his expression neutral.

But I sensed a lingering tension.

A tension born from our shared past.

And the unsettling realization that some emotions never truly fade.

Clyde's fingers grazed my cheek, his touch sending shivers down my spine. His eyes locked onto mine, filled with a deep sincerity that made my heart skip a beat.

"I'll make everything alright, Dahlia," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin.

His words wrapped around me like a comforting blanket, soothing my fears.

I felt my heart race as he leaned in, inches apart, his face a whisper from mine.

But before our lips could meet, Anissa's voice cut through the tension like a knife.

"Clyde, what happened?" she asked, her tone laced with concern.

I felt a surge of nervousness, my face flushing.

But before I could explain, Clyde's expression darkened.

His gaze snapped towards Anissa, his eyes blazing with anger.

"You left her alone?" he thundered.

His voice echoed through the room, making me jump.

"Irresponsible, as always," he accused.

Anissa's eyes widened, shock etched on her face.

"Clyde, calm down," she pleaded.

But Clyde's anger only intensified.

"Do you have any idea how badly she could have been hurt?" he yelled.

His words hung in the air like a challenge.

I tried to intervene, but Clyde's fury silenced me.

"This is your fault, Anissa," he accused.

"Always leaving others to pick up after you," he spat.

Anissa's face paled, tears welling in her eyes.

"Clyde, stop," she begged.

Her voice trembled.

But Clyde's rage wouldn't subside.

The atmosphere was toxic, heavy with unspoken resentments.

I felt trapped, caught between Clyde's anger and Anissa's hurt.