The Devil's Good Girl
Chapter 140: My lighthouse

Chapter 140: My lighthouse

Silence hung in the air as Marianne and Vincent sat across from each other. It had been a total of five minutes since she let him inside her home, but neither of them spoke a word. This was unlike their usual routine ever since they started seeing each other.

Normally, whenever Vincent comes, they would start kissing immediately. The talking or any other activities come after relieving themselves. But now, they neither kissed nor undressed each other. They weren’t even talking when they were supposed to talk.

It was just silence, pure silence.

"I heard what happened today," said Marianne when she couldn’t take the silence anymore. "Did you and Fil make up?"

"No," he answered, his eyes downcast. "She called me out, telling me she knows when I’m in real pain."

"Seeing you here perfectly well, I guess she’s right."

"The accident was true."

"And you thought exaggerating it might benefit you?"

Vincent closed his eyes and let out a deep exhale. He bent over, burying his face in his palms.

"I keep screwing things up," he muttered. "Now, she probably hates me more."

"You know her longer than I do, but I’m surprised you thought it would work."

"It worked before," he stressed as he faced her squarely. "But I underestimated her anger toward me this time."

"I see." Marianne rocked her head. "And you came here to tell me that? Are you going to ask me to use our friendship and maybe cajole her to forgive you?"

Vincent ran his tongue across his cheek, staring at her straight in the eye. "Let’s stop, Anne," he announced under his breath. "What we had... it was fun. But we got to stop it now."

"Fooling around behind her back is the reason I kept having these ideas. I was being nonsense just because I was scared she would do what I’ve been doing behind her back," he continued solemnly. "And even if she forgives me, I know I’d keep suspecting her just because."

He paused as he drew a deep breath. "I don’t want to lose her. So, let’s stop. Don’t call me again, don’t ask for my help, and let’s not be friends. You can stay as her friend, but not mine."

Another wave of silence followed suit as they both held each other’s gaze. He didn’t speak to let her process it while Marianne wasn’t even surprised at this. It wasn’t like she didn’t know Vincent’s real feelings for Fil. After all, if Vincent didn’t love Fil or didn’t respect her even the slightest, he wouldn’t wait for the marriage to touch her.

"Vincent," Marianne whispered, clasping her lap mildly. "I love you."

Again, silence followed.

"Anne," Vincent let out a deep exhale, sporting an apologetic look. "Please don’t do this."

Tears formed in the corner of her eyes, clasping her hands even tighter. "Everything we did... is any of those real? You said you care about me and that I’m special. Were those lies just so you can get under my pants?"

"Anne, you know Fil and I —"

"Just answer me." This time, tears rolled down her cheek but the determination in her eyes remained. "At one point, had you ever considered me as a special someone and not just your sexual partner?"

Vincent didn’t answer immediately, feeling a little sorry for her.

"I’m sorry," he breathed out. "I like you, but I love Fil. I thought you already knew that. After all, you’re friends."

"Do you think I still think of her as my friend when I slept with you the second time?"

"Anne."

"This is ridiculous." She laughed in mockery, pushing herself to stand up. She didn’t say anything anymore, storming away from the living area. But before she could even go anywhere else, a hand grabbed her wrist and turned her around.

"Anne," Vincent called, and his breath hitched the moment he saw the tears flooding her face. His heart clenched, seeing that look on her face.

"I’m sorry," he expressed once more. "I loved your company and I’ve always felt free whenever I’m with you. You have become a special person to me, but... the future I’m building is for Fil —"

The rest of his words were suddenly thrust back into his throat when she stood on her toes and her lips covered his mouth. His eyes went wide, watching her pull her head back from him in surprise.

"Anne, you —"

Again, Marianne tilted her head and leaned closer. Her lips smashed against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck. Vincent intuitively placed his hands on her hips, trying to push her away.

"Fine," she breathed out, parting her lips from him before he pushed her away. Tears continued to stream down her face, but she tried to make a brave front. "I understand you don’t love me, but Vince, I’m in love with you."

"Anne, we can’t be together."

"I know," she hiccuped. "All I’m asking is to give me some time. I’m not gonna ask you for anything and I’ll try to talk to her about your relationship. Just don’t leave tonight. I know you’re upset, and I am upset too. Let’s talk more once we..."

Marianne pressed her lips into a thin line, staring deep into his eyes. "Stay with me tonight," she whispered. "I want you and I know you want it too."

Vincent opened and closed his mouth in distress.

"Damn it," he grumbled, lowering his head and planting his lips on hers. Marianne welcomed him gracefully, jumping on him and wrapping her legs around him. Without letting go of each other’s lips, they started undressing to do what they always do.

*

*

*

*

Marianne lay on her side, her knuckles propped against her temple. She stared at Vincent’s bareback as he was sleeping on his stomach with his face turned to the other side. Her eyes were sharp as ice and distant, concealing her thoughts.

Without saying a word, she carefully went out of the bed. Picking up the robe on the floor, she wrapped it around her bare body as she made her way to the kitchen. Marianne grabbed herself a glass of wine, which she downed in one go. She poured herself another one, which she planned to take into her room. However, just as she was in the living area, she stopped.

She turned her head on the couch, walking toward it, and picking up the keychain she left in there. She rubbed it with her thumb as a habit, clenching her teeth. Instead of going back to the bedroom, Marianne sat on the couch with the keychain in her hand and a wineglass in the other.

Marianne just stared at the keychain quietly before a smirk turned up on her face. "I can’t believe he fell for that," she whispered, still staring at the keychain. "The more I know about him, the more I wonder why you always choose him over me. What made him so deserving of your love, my lighthouse?"

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