Long minutes passed, and Sienna still didn't suffice. I busied myself with checking my emails, but it was hard to focus because the more minutes crawled by, the more my anxiety grew to immeasurable heights.

I drummed my fingers on the wheel. What was she up to? I leaned against the headrest and rubbed my face. I would wait only for two more minutes.

One minute passed.

Two.

I checked my watch. 1:45. My eyes closed, and a deep groan rolled out. Having had enough, I stepped out of the car and briskly made my way into the mart.

There was a shabby-looking man wearing a 'save the forest' shirt standing behind the rusty counter. His pupils dilated at the sight of me. "Good dog, what's a fine young man like you doing in this part of town?"

"Have you seen the girl who walked in here?" I asked, dismissing his admiration.

"What girl?" He looked at me with a puzzled expression on his blonde bearded face but his eyes lit up right after. "Oh, the raven head? Is she your girlfriend?"

"She's my wife," I said before I could stop myself and his eyes grew even brighter. "Amazing, most men with your looks don't settle down." He thumbed over his shoulder to the door at the end of the hall. "That's the female restroom. She's been in there for a while now."

Following his direction, I took the path down the meager, deserted store and trotted to the door with the restroom symbol on it.

I knocked. "Sienna?"

The unmistakable sound of retching that resonated from within made my stomach clench with worry. I twisted the knob immediately and looked in, surprised to find her doubled over the sink, one hand clutching her stomach and the other squeezing the sink as she vomited forth, again and again, a look of pain and pure discomfort etching on her face with every heave.

I took a step into the restroom but stopped almost immediately. What was I doing? My hands curled. I should've gone in there and helped her but I didn't know how. I wasn't even sure she wanted me here. It looked...personal, disgusting even.

I receded and walked out. My hands remained curled by my side as I ambled back to the counter.

"You good mate?" The owner asked me, distracting me from my varying thoughts. "You look tensed. What's going on in there? Is she alright?"

"She's throwing up." I confided, expecting him to be as disturbed by it as I was but he simply grinned.

"That's good news ey! How many months in is she?"

The innuendo behind his question made my body stiffen. "She's not." I bit, feeling shivers slither down my spine at the mere consideration of it.

I didn't want to have kids. Never. I couldn't love anything, I'd lost that ability a long time ago. If I ever had a child, I would hate it and it would hate me. There would be no connection. I'd make a terrible father, just like the one that raised me.

The rattling behind the counter snapped me back. Blonde beard cleared his throat and handed me a bottle of ginger ale.

I stared at him blankly. "I never asked for that."

He shook his head. "No mate, it's for your wife. If she's drunk as you say, then it'll help with the vomiting."

I looked him up quizzically.

"Well, come on ey, take it." He nudged, extending his hand. "Expect you want to risk her barfing all over your car?"

We both stared through the window at my Mercedes. It was a limited edition. I was not going to risk it.

"It looks expensive." He observed.

"It is." I grabbed the bottle from him, and with a renewed sense of determination, I moved onward to the restroom.

By the time I made it in, she was sitting on the closed toilet lid, her head bowed. She lifted it at the close of the door and her bloodshot eyes met mine.

"I didn't feel so good," her voice was strained but steady. She seemed to have sobered up. That was a good thing. It meant I didn't have to worry about her dumping on my car.

I stretched my hand out to her. "Drink this, and you'll be fine."

She shook her head. "No."

"It'll help with the vomiting," I elaborated.

"I don't want it," she dismissed.

"Sienna," I scowled, giving her a cold stare. "Take this."

"I said no!" She bellowed, flinging the bottle out of my hand. It crashed to the ground and erupted.

My mood plummeted immediately. I clenched my jaw. "Don't be a silly brat, Sienna; you're too old for this."

She snorted. "Go away, I don't want your help."

I didn't have time for this. I grabbed her hand and yanked her up to her feet. "No, you don't, but maybe if your so-called friend didn't get you stupid drunk, I wouldn't need to be here trying to polish you back to soberness."

She jutted her chin, her eyes unfocused and defiant. "What happened to you ignoring me like I'm some plague, huh, Tristan? Why are you here in a ladies' restroom, so desperately trying to be my Knight in shining armor? Do you know why I like Stefan? It's because he's nothing like you. He's not a rotten piece of washed-up baby diaper!" She shoved me back and stumbled into the wall, unsteady on her feet.

I blinked, puzzled.

She grabbed the sink to steady herself but I could see her legs visibly trembling. Maybe she wasn't as sober as I thought. "I like Stefan because he makes me feel loved and wanted; he genuinely cares for me, but you!" She pointed dramatically at the door, obviously confusing it with me. "All you've ever done is say things that hurt! You're the CEO of Mean and Misogynist Incorporated!" she hollered, losing grip on the sink and teetering forward.

Christ.

I surged forward and caught her. Arguing was no use; she was wasted. I lifted her in my arms. "Come on, we're leaving."

She made a weak protest, flailing her legs. "No, I don't want your help, put me down."

I ignored her and carried her out of the bathroom. Blonde beard smiled and gave me a thumbs-up as I walked by. I ambled right out of the door, dismissing his enthusiastic gesture.

This time, I didn't put Sienna in the passenger seat; I couldn't risk any more distractions. I tucked her into the back.

"Tristan," she mumbled as I fastened her seat belt. "Did you know fingers are just ten tiny, rebellious bananas?"

Oh boy.

"Stefan doesn't have banana fingers. He has cucumber fingers." She tittered and sighed, closing her eyes. "Cucumber..."

I exhaled and shut the door.

The journey from Stefan's house to mine felt longer than it should have been. Sienna whined all through half of it before finally falling asleep. Arriving home, I was tempted to haul her over my shoulder but I didn't relish the idea of her having a barfing fit on my penthouse floor, so I carried her as gently as I could and led her up the elevator.

She kept humming some ridiculous lullaby in my arms as we traveled up. Keith, who had rushed to the door at the chime of the elevator, angled his head to the side and gave me a disbelieving look. Knowing what he was thinking, I ignored him and traversed the stairs.

In the bedroom, I dropped her purse on the nightstand and laid her down. She sprawled on the bed like a starfish that found its sea. "Tristan, did you know if you stare at the ceiling long enough, it starts looking like a giant marshmallow?"

I sighed and lowered to my knees, proceeding to take her heels off. When I wrestled with the buckle, she giggled, squirming. "It tickles." She flailed her legs, urging her dress to shift higher, going over her thighs. The deep red hue of her lace panties flashed.

God. Fuck.

"Woman, stay still, will you!" I hissed in frustration and caught her legs, pulling them shut.

"Meany." She guffawed. "My husband is a meany."

My heart stopped.

I snapped my head up. The goofy grin she shot me told me she was far from being sober. There was no use taking her words seriously.

Rolling my eyes, I flicked the buckle of her left heel, and it came off. When I was done, I placed them aside and stood straight.

"Go to bed," I said and turned, prepared to leave. I needed to be out of here. I was teetering on the edge of temptation, and it was taking every ounce of my self-control. But she caught my hand, stopping me.

I turned, shooting her a glower. "What?"

She pushed her lips out in a ridiculous pout. "My head, it hurts so bad..."

"That's because you're drunk; go to bed."

"Tristannnn." She whined. "Do something."

"What the hell do you want me to do?"

"I don't know." She grumbled, tugging hard on my sleeve. "Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!"

"Fine!" I snapped and yanked my hand away. Jesus Christ.

She started to get up.

"Hey, hey! Stay there," I immediately instructed. "I'll get you something, okay?"

Her whimpers followed me as I quickly exited the room and headed to mine. In my bathroom, I searched around in the medicine cabinet. I could swear I had some ibuprofen somewhere around here.

Rummaging through the cabinet, my frustration built. There was none here. I placed my hand on my hips and blew out an exasperated breath. Fucccck. I was stressed. I'd never been this stressed in my life.

Smothering a curse, I made my way out of my room and into the kitchen. The search through the first aid kit was swift. I found some painkillers and grabbed a bottle of water.

Upon my return to her room, I found the bed empty. My mood sank. A frown immediately met my face. I looked around. Where the hell was she? Confusion knitted my brows. "Sienna?" I called.

The sound of running water revealed her location-she was in the shower.

I sighed, wondering how she managed to find her way there in her intoxicated state. Resigned, I placed the water and painkiller on her nightstand and called again.

"Sienna?"

No response.

Unease crept over me. "Sienna?" I hollered more firmly.

Nothing.

I approached the bathroom door. Knocking gently, I called out to her again. "Sienna, are you okay?"

Fear gripped me when no response came through. Imagining the worst scenarios, I let myself in and I was utterly shocked to find her sitting inside the shower stall, curled up with her head between her knees, fully clothed, except now soaked to the bone as the water cascaded over her.

I rushed inside and turned the shower off. "Are you out of your mind?!"

She jerked and lifted her head to look at me with eyes that were red. "Leave me alone..."

I grabbed her hand and hauled her up. "What the hell is wrong with you, Sienna?!" I snapped with all the frustration and anger bubbling inside me.

"I said leave me alone...." She repeated, shivering. "All I wanted to do was forget..." Her bottom lip trembled. "I wanted to forget how much my life sucked, how much of a mess I was, but you wouldn't understand because you have everything. Your... Your life is freaking perfect."

Perfect? I clenched my fists. "My life is far from perfect, Sienna."

"Oh really?" She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "I'm dirt poor, Tristan. I lived off noodles and shared my apartment with rats before coming here. My mother is clinically ill but pretends like she isn't. My brother is disabled. My father-" she paused and stared at me. "Well, he left. He left us because he probably knew I would be a waste of time from the very beginning. He probably knew that I would amount to nothing! And he..." She inhaled a shaky breath, tears suddenly glistening down her cheeks. "He was right. I am nothing. I have nothing..."

I parted my lips, but nothing came out except a quiet exhale. "Come on, you need to get out of here."

She shook her head. "For so long I've tried to prove my worth. I studied a stupid course I didn't even want because it paid well. I worked my way through college. All I've ever done is work. All my life; work, work, work! And even now I'm still working! What about me?! How much more do I have to sacrifice?! My Heart?! My soul?! My sanity?! When does it end?! When?!"

Seeing those tears stream down her eyes like that made me physically weak. All I could see was a woman speaking from a place of pain; a place I could very well resonate with. I swallowed, stepping forward. "Sienna-"

"Don't!" She shut me, angrily dashing the tears on her cheeks away. "Don't try to pity me or act like you give a fuck. You probably think I'm a stupid brat who can't control her feelings."

Well, she wasn't wrong.

Her shoulders shook with laughter but the tears didn't stop pelting pitifully down her face. "You're probably regretting it again, aren't you?"

I sighed. "I never said that."

"You said it before, didn't you? You regretted it, you regretted sleeping with me, just like everyone else." Her chin started to tremble again. "Shane did it. Jackson did the same. He had me, he used me, and he dumped me. No one wants me...maybe...maybe I'm really cursed." She buried her face in her hands and her shoulders shook under the force of her sobs.

God, I absolutely hated it when women fucking cried. The need to touch her became impossible to push aside. Against all reasoning, I stepped forward and cupped her face, forcing her to look at me. "Hey, you're wrong okay," I started, staring into those glassy eyes as I fought off the warning drums sounding in my head. "I never regretted that night with you."

She shook her head, her wet hair whipping around. "You're just saying that because I'm crying and you want to be the superhero but you don't have to. Don't make this more pathetic than it already is, don't lie to me."

Such a mess.

"I mean it." I smeared her tears away with my thumb.

She shook her head again, shutting her eyes as if to block my words from sinking. "You're lying, you're lying. Stop lying. Stop... Lying." She opened her eyes and looked at me, really looked at me, and in the depths of those hazel orbs, I saw the scars of an aching heart that had been lied to so many times, it didn't know what to believe anymore.

I grabbed her hips and tugged her to me. "Sienna."

"Then why?" She whimpered, cutting me. "Why did you hurt me like that? Why do you always like hurting me? What have I ever done to you? Why do you hate me? Why?"

Her words cut deeper than I thought possible. "For fucks sake, Sienna, I don't hate you." I grabbed her hand and pressed it against my engorged cock. "Does this feel like the body of a man who hates you?"

"Tristan." She exhaled in a rush. "You're..."

Hard. Yes. "Yes, I am."

Her beautiful eyes lowered, skimming over my erection. "You...don't hate me?" She murmured in daze, squeezing me slightly.

I groaned. It was taking everything in me not to whip my cock out and make her suck it. Fuck. "I don't hate you, Sienna," my voice was strained. "Frankly, I don't think I can get my cock up for someone I loathe."

Her innocent face looked back at me. She parted her lips and unconsciously licked them. I could swear I felt the lick in my cock. It pulsed, growing harder. Fuck. My stomach coiled tight. I wanted her again, I wanted her so bad. And she must have shared the same feeling because in that moment, she stood on her toes and cupped my face, and then, she kissed me.