02. Till Death Do Us Part

      Ashlynn's being stood there frozen at the threshold, almost as still as a lifeless log of wood and utterly dazed with confusion, her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. 

      The overwhelming and anguishing wave of gnawing realization hit her like a Tsunami ravaging a small village, it almost seemed like time itself had frozen.

      The only two problems here apart from the obvious fact that the two-faced, bloody bastard of a fiancè had been two timing two sisters, sticking up his penis is two biologically related vaginas, was that who the hell screams like that getting banged? No one does!

     Sex is not that good that she had to cause a sonic boom by breaking the sound barriers with her high pitched howler monkey squeals. 

The sight churned Ashlynn's stomach. She just couldn't bare to watch them anymore.

      "Tristan! Aaralynn! How could you?"

Her abrupt presence and the vehement screech in which her words poured out ended it all. It was over. Woah, sex of a lifetime. 

     She was trembling, out-and-out unmitigatedly transfixed at the very spot with a facial expression like one who had just seen a ghost. 

The room reeked of sex and sweat. 

Ashlynn stared at them. They started back. 

     Tristan Hollands, her fiance and the man who was to become her husband in a few hours had his penis in a place where Ashlynn would've never imagined- the shithole of her sister, Aaralynn. 

      She had always hated her sister. Right from the very beginning. Her existence has been nothing but an utter, fucking pain in Ashlynn's ass.

      All her life, she had grown up having her every action, her every move and lifestyle being compared to Aaralynn's and being nagged to death constantly by her parents and literally everyone else about how she was so much better than her in everything. She hated the fact that Aaralynn was the better twin and also the fact that the little bitch always seized an opportunity to rub it in her face. 

But now, she had given Ashlynn a whole new reason to despise her. Fucking cunt!

      Tristan, still perched behind Aaralynn with fucking nipple clamps pegged on his nipples– eew, stared back at Ashlynn obviously taken aback by her sudden presence and had the most ridiculously, comedical gawk on his face. 

     In short, the look on Tristan's face was pricelessly hysterical. To be honest, Ashlynn would've burst out in laughter at the sight if it was another girl's soon-to-be husband cheating on her with her own blood sister.

Aaralynn rolled her eyes at her twin's sight, letting out a frustrated groan at her apparently displeasuring presence. 

     "Well, we're a bit busy now. You should leave." She hissed without an iota of remorse or shame as if it was nothing out of the ordinary that her sister just caught her having sex with her almost groom few moments before her wedding. "Can't you just wait a few more minutes before he joins you at the altar and you can have him all to yourself?"

      Her words aggravated Ashlynn. And for some reason, her eyes which were now fogging up with hot tears, darted around and found the very idle table knife resting gently over a plate set on the marbled table that sat gracefully at the corridor. 

     Ashlynn whirled around and breezed away from the ugly sight trying so hard to hold in her tears. Tristan didn't deserve her tears and her expensive mascara didn't deserve to be ruined. 

     She was stomping her way out of the room in her glamourous, shiny Louis Vuitton heels, ready to go up nineteen floors to tell everyone that the stupid wedding was cancelled and the groom is a fucking asshole who screws his sister in-law's asshole. And the sister in-law was an asshole too!

     "Ashlynn! Ashlynn! Ashlynn, wait." Tristan caught a glimpse of the menacing scrunch his fianceè's face had contorted into and the way she bulldozed herself out of the room, it didn't take rocket science for him to figure out what she was going to do. 

So he trudged behind her in a pursuit as he tried to pull up his wedding pants nevertheless, his pleads didn't slow Ashlynn down. 

      "Ashlynn, would you fucking wait?" 

      "Leave me the fuck alone you cheating bastard." She screamed full-throathedly. The tears had their way now, slowly trickling down her eyes despite her refutation. 

      "I said wait, Ashlynn." 

His voice was behind her already, he had caught up. He yanked her arm, dragging her backwards, pulling her around to face him before she could walk out of the room. 

      His pants were halfway up, and the image of his dangling member in that very corridor has forever been burnt into Ashlynn's visual cortex. 

He was half naked, clear signs of another woman printed all over him. Pink lipstick smudged on different parts of his chest and those fucking nipple clamps. Dear Lord. 

      "Leave me alone!" His grip on her arm was so tight, it hurt and she desperately tried to wriggle herself out of his grasp but she probably needed to work out more to attain that feat. 

     "No!" He refused, "Not until you listen to my explanation." 

     "Fuck you and your fucking explanation, you fucking piece of shit!" 

     He ignored her outburst off course, going on to spew out whatever lie he must've conjured up in a bid to deceive her into overlooking the fact that she just caught him cheating on her with her sister. "Babe, what you saw, that thing with Aaralynn– it's not a big deal." 

     "I'm so sorry babe. You know I love you endlessly." He stepped closer, cleaning the tears that welled up in her eyes, in the process smearing her mascara and eyeliner. "You know I love you, only you. I was just having some last minute fun with her. You know, before I commit into loving you for the rest of my life." He spoke softly, his lips spreading into a cheeky smirk as he tucked behind a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

      "I never meant to hurt you." He further whispered before planting a kiss on her forehead. 

     To think she'd take those words coming out a cheating bastard wearing nipple clamps seriously, and she mentally cringed- almost wanting to rip off her forehead as the skin of his lips touched it. Only God knows where those lips have been, and what they had done...

     He pulled her into a hug. She couldn't resist. She had no strength whatsoever for that. She just stood there, frozen, her eyes full of tears.

     And then there he was, apparently seeing absolutely nothing wrong in his actions and the sad part was that he expected her to feel the exact same way, key into his messed up belief that it was "just fun." 

     Her heart skipped a beat and she felt an unwanted fuzzy feeling of heartbreak, wickedly lick her spine.

     She wasn't feeling angry anymore, in fact for some reason she felt the strong urge to laugh at his stupidity, and oh she did. 

     A very loud, boisterous laughter did she emit as she felt something more powerful, so swith and vehement replace the anger. It was love. Broken Love. Dying Love. And it overcame the anger at that moment, the emotions of love diminishing like an outing dynamite, about to explode. 

Sniffling, she wiped her tears. 

     Her hands reached for the table knife as she was now beside the graceful marbled table, slowly lifting the blade from the plate.

     Her lips curved into a smirk as she clenched the knife tightly, "I love you too Tristan. Till death do us part."