Half Truths, Half Lies

My lips parted, but no words could come out of it. I just sat there, my eyes fixed on Florian's smile, the TV in the background acting like some sort of reminder of what I had gotten myself into.

I stood up slowly, then walked past Florian and towards the TV. It showed herds of reporters, and Damien tried his best to push through them. He was still wearing the suit I had seen him in earlier, and I wondered what my parents thought right now. What they would be feeling.

Would they finally take me back? Would they believe everything I had said?

I turned, and Florian was behind me, his hand tucked into his pockets, his eyes cold as he looked down at me.

"Did... did you do this?"

He looked up to the TV, then to me. "I wish I had."

"Florian."

"Let's face it, Rox. He slept with prostitutes and then let them take explicit photos of him like that. What exactly was he expecting? Of course, one of them would end up blackmailing him or even leaking it. This was bound to happen."

I swallowed hard. There was no way Florian would have those kinds of photos. He, after all, hadn't even been inside the club. I looked up to him.

"What were you doing outside the club?"

He didn't say a word, his eyes squinting a little.

"I need to know, Florian. What were you doing outside that club? Why exactly were you there?"

He let out a small sigh. "I answer to no one, Roxanne."

He turned away, but I grabbed his arm, turning him back to face me.

"Answer me!"

"Fine," he said, his voice surprisingly calm. "I knew they were going there. It was in a group chat. I flew down here to confront them about it, but I didn't go in cause I saw your car outside. I didn't tell you last night because I didn't want you to lose me as a shoulder to cry on, too."

I let out a small scoff, my head shaking slowly. "Let me tell you a more logical reason why you didn't tell me last night. Because you wanted to sleep with me. You wanted last night to happen, and you were going to have that dirty fun with them had you not seen my car outside!"

He raised a brow, his face scrunching up in disgust. He gave a small humourless laugh, then turned to me, his eyes boring holes into me.

"I know you are overcome with emotions right now, but take a step back, and take a good look at me. Does this body look like something I would give to just anyone? Does this body look like something I would give to a woman other than one I would absolutely worship at my knees? Is that how lonely you think of me?"

I swallowed hard, my chest heaving. I wasn't sure what I was feeling, but it felt awful. It felt horrid. My eyes looked up to Florian's, and I shook my head.

"I am leaving."

I started to walk past him, but he held my arm back.

"You are going nowhere."

"Florian, let me go!"

"Have some self-respect, Roxanne. That man cheated on you with prostitutes. Not even any other woman. Prostitutes. Do you even know what that means? He values you above those women. He values that one night above whatever you both shared! Have some self-respect, Roxanne, that bastard doesn't even deserve your tears, or your sympathy, or even the privilege to beg at your feet."

My chest heaved with anger and helplessness, and I swallowed, tears brewing at the back of my eyes. I looked up to Florian, and the tears blurred my vision of him as they started to fall in torrents.

He let out a small sigh, then cupped my face, his thumb running along my cheeks, wiping my tears.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, his fingers running along my face. "It's only going to get worse the more you do this."

I couldn't help it. The tears were acting on their own, and my heart was breaking even more because I knew it was the truth. For at least, that one night, Damien had given precedence on his priority list to those women rather than me.

Florian pulled me into the warmth of his chest. He smelled like a mixture of masculine essence and homely aroma. It made me melt even more into him because he felt like home.

Slowly, he leaned, then brought me into his arms. I buried my face into his chest as he made his way up the stairs, his heartbeat keeping me company.

We finally got to the bedroom, and he leaned, then gently put me on the bed, his eyes slowly meeting mine. They were tender and soft, and if I didn't know how he normally looked, I would think he pitied me. But this wasn't pity. I knew exactly what this was.

I slowly let my hand go, and he pushed my hair back, then kissed my forehead.

"Rest here."

I watched as he leaned away and pulled the sheets around me, then started to move away from the bed. I immediately grabbed his fingers, my lips parting.

He turned to me, his brows slightly furrowed. "You want something?"

I nodded, then tapped on the side of the bed next to me. "Please?"

His eyes took me in, and without a word, he moved, removing his hand from mine. I watched as he removed the tank top he was wearing, then went behind me.

I adjusted, my heart racing with a lot of different emotions all at once. Worry, hatred, pity. Everything.

Suddenly, I felt Florian's hand slowly cover my forehead. He brought my head back till I was resting on his bare chest, my back resting on him, my body fluid in his arms.

His fingers traced the sides of my body till he reached my waist and pulled me back, his lips parting against my neck, his fingers pressing down on my hoodie, till I could feel it down to my skin.

"Rest. Nothing is getting to you here."

I closed my eyes, believing him completely.