Chapter 2
The air felt frozen, and the living room was so quiet that I could hear our heartbeats.
Drogo's was frantic, pounding like a drum.
Trista's was smug, but with a hint of anxiety.
However, I was so calm that I was almost lifeless.
Finally, Drogo broke the silence. He awkwardly shoved Trista aside and rushed over to me, forcing a smile that looked more like he was about to cry. "Gina, just hear me out, okay? It's not what you think..."
His fingers automatically drummed on the wedding band on his ring finger, his classic tell whenever he was lying. I had known that he had this habit for the past five years.
"Then what is it?" I arched an eyebrow, watching him with amused interest. "Did I see things wrong, or maybe my ears are playing tricks on me? Or better yet, why don't you two put on that little show again for me?"
"No, Gina!" Drogo was sweating nervously, turning to shoot Trista an accusatory glare. "Why are you here? Didn't I tell you to stay away?"
Trista's eyes welled up again under his glare, looking hurt and vulnerable. "I just wanted to apologize to you, Gina. I don't want to ruin things between you two..."
"Apologize?" I scoffed, my gaze drifting from her face to her hand, still clutching Drogo's shirt.
I asked, "Does saying sorry really need all that drama? Anyone walking in might think you two are acting like star-crossed lovers right in front of me."
My words made Drogo's expression sour even more.
He suddenly yanked Trista's hand off, his tone harsher. "Just go. You don't belong here!"
"Drogo!" Trista looked at him, totally heartbroken by how ruthless he was.
"I said, get out!" Drogo practically snarled.
Trista bit her lip, gave me a tearful, resentful look before turning and running out, her face buried in her hands.
The door slammed shut, and finally, the room fell quiet.
Drogo let out a long sigh, like he'd just dodged a bullet. He turned to me, carefully taking my hand, his voice as soft and familiar as ever.
He said, "Gina, don't be mad. Seriously, it was just a stupid mistake. I was drunk, okay? She said it. I don't even like her. She was the one who started it."
He was trying to feed me the same crap he used on Trista.
I found him pathetic.
I slowly pulled my hand away and met his gaze calmly. "Drogo, we've known each other for ten years."
He froze, not sure why I was bringing this up now.
"Ten years is long enough for me to know exactly what kind of guy you are." I walked over to the couch, pulled out the papers I'd already prepared, and slammed them down on the coffee table.
I added, "I know your type. You go for girls who are young, pretty, know how to play cute, and make you feel like a king. Trust me, I get it."
I looked up, meeting his panicked eyes head-on.
I continued, "Cut the crap.
"'He'd never sleep with someone he doesn't care about.' That line's not just for her, Drogo, it's for you too.
"Drogo, we're done. I want a divorce."
Drogo saw that the papers were a divorce agreement.
"Divorce?" Drogo looked like he'd just been struck by lightning, frozen in place as the color drained from his face.
He assumed that Trista showing up would just mean another argument.
He felt that maybe I'd give him the silent treatment for a while, and then he'd patch things up with a few sweet words and a fancy bag, like he had done in the past.
He never imagined I'd actually divorce him.
"Gina, just calm down. Don't go throwing around the word 'divorce' over something so trivial!" He finally snapped out of his shock, rushing over and trying to snatch the agreement from me.
But I was quicker, grabbing the papers before he could get his hands on them.
"Trivial?" I shot him a look, suddenly feeling like I barely recognized him. "Drogo, so in your eyes, cheating is just no big deal?"
He blurted out, his voice cracking, "That wasn't cheating. It was just a stupid mistake. I love you. You're my wife. Trista was just an accident!"
"An accident?" I waved the divorce papers in his face. "She came knocking on our door and showed that she might even be carrying your baby now. Is that also an accident?"
I was just bluffing with that last part.
But Drogo's reaction told me everything I needed to know.
His pupils shrank, and he looked totally freaked out. "Stop making things up. She can't be pregnant!"
"Really?" I gave him a cold stare. "Then why are you so nervous? Or are you telling me you two always used protection?"
My questions shut him right up, his face kept switching between red and white.
Looking at him now, whatever feelings I had left for him just disappeared.