Too late

I felt my heart rate quicken. What was he doing here? And in my room....

“Don’t scream,” he whispered as he released the hand he held over my mouth.

Anger floods my veins as I slowly turn around to meet searing forest green eyes. It’s so funny to me now that the tables have turned. I can see it shining back at me in those eyes.

Desperation.

But it hardly brings me peace. If anything, it’s guilt. Though I have nothing to feel guilty for. James was the one who chose Marina over me. Over our marriage. He chose indifference when he could have just chosen me.

I’m forced to focus on the steady rise and fall of my chest, because every breath feels as if there’s not enough oxygen in the room.

I blink, trying to diffuse the stare off between the two of us, “What are you doing here?”

“The question is what are you doing here?” James retorts, never breaking eye contact.

A heavy breath escapes through my nose as I shake my head, “The last time I checked, I don’t have to tell you wha