696I felt the soft hue of gold sand between my toes. The calming sound of the aqua-blue waves rolled back and forth as the lush green feather-like leaves from the palm trees served as a light fan. The sky was a perfect cerulean with big, fluffy white clouds.
I held my head back and took deep, calming breaths absorbing the thick smell of salt that engulfed the air on Malolo Island. It felt good to be outside as my body soaked up the afternoon sun. I had been holed up in the luxury resort that Aaron and I had thoughtfully chosen for the last forty-eight hours. I'll never forget how we went on for weeks searching the internet and asking a few travel agents which was the best island in Fiji before we had finally decided.
He wasn't the typical groom who agreed quickly with my wedding selections by waving me off stating, that whatever I picked was fine with him. He made sure he was front and center for every detail of our elaborate party. Even down to the baby's breaths that accented the flowers for the ceremony he helped to pick.
Our wedding coordinator, Karyn, whom Aaron hired, politely asked him why he had hired her if he was going to do her job. He merely responded, 'Only the best for my Bella.'
He had always been a stickler for perfection in most things, so his behavior wasn't unusual to me. But to others sometimes he came off as obsessive and overbearing.
I turned my phone back on that had been sitting in my lap to call my parents to let them know I was okay. That was the deal I made with them in exchange for them letting me travel alone. They didn't necessarily agree with the idea but after several minutes of explaining to them I needed to do this for me, they saw let it go.
I made one stop at my aunt Kate's condo in Des Plaines, which Aaron knew nothing about before I flew to our honeymoon spot solo. The original plan was for us to stay at the Four Seasons Hotel and catch our flight the next morning.
I wasn't going to stay at my parent's house since I knew that was the first place he'd look. We were staying in his downtown condo but were supposed to close on our new home in three weeks.
I vacillated with going to Fiji but then figured why the hell not? I needed a different scenery away from everything and everyone, so I could begin to piece my life back together.
I ran out of the Greenhouse Loft, where our reception was held, like a bat out of hell, after I found out what Aaron had been doing for the past two and a half years, we'd been together.
"Bella, I'm—" He reached for me, but I stepped back, quickly.
The bulky arms that I usually felt safe in I couldn't bear the thought of touching me.
"Please, honey." He took another step toward me and I moved back again.
"Don't touch me." I hissed.
"You're my wife." He pointed to his chest. "Don't you tell me I can't touch you."
"Not for long." My words dripped with spite.
The muscles along his jawline clenched. "What does that mean?"
"You're one of the top partners at Barnes and Freeborn's law firm, I'm sure you'll figure it out."
Aaron could be intimidating with his size alone. He was six feet tall and weighed 245 pounds. He had an air about him that commanded any room he walked into. He was a corporate attorney who had recently been included on the Best Lawyers' 2022 Best Law Firms List. This recognition placed the firm in the Metropolitan Tier 1 category of Chicago-area firms offering counsel in Corporate Law.
His trying to play dumb wasn't going to work with me.
"I'm not giving you a divorce, Bella." He narrowed his eyes.
I wasn't an attorney, but I knew what I needed to do.
"You're right, we haven't been married long enough, we'll get an annulment." I challenged.
"Did you forget I practice law for a living? Hell, I am the law." Aaron smiled smugly. "You won't win, sweetheart." He took another step forward and I moved to the other side of the table putting more distance between us.
"You have lost your mind if you think I'm going to stay married to you. I don't care about who you know. Once I show the judge proof of what you've been—" I turned my head unable to look at him anymore.
His shoulder slumped as he exhaled. "Baby, I don't want to fight with you. This is our wedding day. All those people out there, our family and friends came to celebrate with us. Come on honey, we can work this out after the reception. Let's go back out there and enjoy your guests." He smiled, holding his hand out to me.
He knew how to talk his way out of situations—he did it for other people every damn day. He was poised with his smooth, charming voice, but that pissed me off even more.
This was his way of dismissing me.
How I felt meant absolutely nothing to him.
I guess I was supposed to be the good little wife and keep my mouth closed.
Yeah, right. He married the wrong one.
"Fuck you!" He flinched. "I'm not going anywhere with you. Now move out of my way so I can leave."
"Bella, I can't let you leave, not like this. Please, we can fix this." He pleaded.
"Fix?" My laugh had an edge to it. "There's nothing to fix, Aaron."
"Don't say that." He shook his head. "Let's—" he looked around the room. "—sit down and talk this out."
"Move." My tone was cool but icy.
"No. I won't let you leave." He walked toward me quickly.
The room we were in was much smaller than where I reception was held. There were about twenty round tables with white linen tablecloths and black centerpieces with long-stemmed red roses.
I picked up one of the vases from the table closest to me and threw it at him. "Stay the hell away from me."
He cringed as the glass shattered at his feet on the stone floor.
I stepped out of my heels and ran to the next table and threw another one at him. "Get the hell out of my way," I yelled.
"Bella, stop!" He covered his face.
The door swung open as I grabbed another one to throw.
"What the hell?" My father looked around the room until his eyes landed on me. "Bella, sweetheart, what's going on?" He quickly walked to me and pulled me into his arms.
I felt a lump in my throat as a single tear traced down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away, slowly inhaling and exhaling. The dam of tears I wanted to let break, I couldn't, not in front of him.
"I've got you, baby." Dad crooned in my ear.
"I need to leave, now." I choked out.
"Okay." Dad agreed softly.
I saw Aaron out of the corner of my eye scratching the back of his neck. "Um, Charlie, I'd like to talk to my wife."
Dad turned around and faced Aaron, completely blocking my view. "I don't know what has happened yet, but I do know it has to be pretty bad for Bella requesting to leave her wedding." He glared at Aaron. "I told you when you asked for my daughter's hand in marriage if you ever hurt her, I would make you pay, didn't I?"
I didn't hear Aaron respond but I was too disgusted to look at him.
"Huh, I can't hear you son." Dad slightly raised his voice.
"Yes, sir." He cleared his throat.
"Aaron, I know you have your connections because of the position you hold but I have connections too." His voice was hard.
Dad was the chief of police in Chicago and had been for the past eighteen years.
My father turned back toward me. "You ready?" He wrapped his arm around my shoulder.
I nodded and we walked past Aaron.
"Bella!" He cried out.
I didn't falter or look back at him—it was too painful.
"Please, baby, don't—" his voice cracked.
Nausea churned my stomach.
It felt like a fist had slowly closed over my heart.
I couldn't get out of that building fast enough, the air was heavy with an oppressive sadness—suffocating, on what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life.