To say that I’m angry is the understatement of the year.
To see my angel walk out with some motherfucker, then realize it’s the one she had spoken to at the industry mixer—the one she had touched on his arm briefly—is enough to get my back up. However, then she smiles up at him, and when he leaves, she looks anguished and miserable, which makes me see red as fury fills me.
I hadn’t planned on being out of Sophie’s life for so long. When she left my penthouse that morning two weeks ago, I had planned to find her that very evening so we could pick up where we left off. However, being summoned home and unable to return for two weeks put a wrench into my plans.
Has she moved on in that time?
The thought of that fucking dick touching her, kissing her, fucking her…
Jesus Christ, I’m going to lose my mind.
The rational side of my brain finally dominates and kicks my ass into gear. I can’t envision that—not right now, and hopefully never—because I need to get this woman, my angel, my good girl, back on my side.
I realize I don’t know her; however, the feelings she elicits in me, the visions of her in the future, by my side and carrying my child… Those all mean something to me. Add to it that night at my penthouse that I hadn’t even thought consciously or questioned my actions of taking her to my bed and her sleeping by my side. This all adds up to one thing in my mind.
I have found her.
The one for me.
My soulmate.
I just need her to feel the same.
