CHAPTER 28: IT’S NOT HIS FAULT

Braelyn’s POV

I couldn’t hold it in, my puke had splattered on his shirt before I realised. I hugged my stomach which was still squirming.

Raphael froze, completely thrown off as I stumbled back, my hand clamping over my mouth. He instinctively reached out for me, and the anger in his eyes seemed to have dissipated.

It felt like my stomach was dancing. The bile burned my throat again, and before I could stop myself, I bolted for the bathroom.

"Brae..." his voice echoed behind me. Sharp footsteps following. This was freaking embarrassing, my mind screamed.

"Don’t," I choked out before slamming the door behind me then bolted for the toilet bowl

My knees hit the cold marble as I leaned over the toilet, retching again after opening the lid.

My stomach twisted violently, leaving me breathless. Everything I had eaten or drunk the entire day continued rushing out. It felt like I might end up puking my intestines.

I didn’t even know what was happening stress, maybe, or just everything piling up at once. I didn’t even drink much.

The door was kicked open. I didn’t have the strength to protest. Raphael was there in an instant, kneeling beside me. I hated the fact that his familiar cologne eased the discomfort in my stomach.

He pulled my hair back gently, one hand patting my back as another wave hit. He knew me well enough, this wasn’t the first time. His hand moved in a familiar rhythm.

"Breathe," he murmured, his voice low but laced with worry. "You can’t even handle a few glasses, can you?" he sighed. He pinched his nose, exasperated, before he sighed.

"Did you forget your bad tolerance?" His annoyance was obvious, and it sounded a bit like he cared, or it was just my imagination.

My face was still over the bow, and I barely managed to lift my head. "Don’t... start." I pleaded, my head was throbbing a bit from his bickering.

But of course, he didn’t stop. When did he turn to the nagging type? My brows twitched.

"Look at you, Brae. You can’t even hold your liquor and yet you go out drinking with him? Is that what you’ve become? Letting Lucien drag you into his messes?" he sneered, not bothering to hide his contempt.

My stomach wretched again. He sighed, still rubbing my back. "I should have some pills." He mumbled before adding. "So this was what you were doing? Drinking instead of mourning, classic Lucien."

That last statement kind of ticked me off. Raphael stood up before I could explode and returned shortly with a glass of water and some hangover drugs. "This should help." He did not miss the chance to diss Lucien.

"This is the reason I told you to avoid him. You will only hurt yourself." His voice was tender but the words weren’t.

I swallowed hard, flushing the toilet, my hands trembling as I reached for the sink. "Don’t talk about him like that. He isn’t some type of psychopath."

The cold water rushing over my trembling hands seemed to ease the discomfort. My defensive stance, of course, ticked off my dear scumbag of a husband.

"Like what?" Raphael snapped, following me as I stood up weakly. How can you be a cheat and jealous at the same time?

When he suggested the sham of an open marriage, he knew me too well and expected I wouldn’t actually use it. After all, I have been the calm, devoted wife who might not mind a mistress.

I drew in a deep breath then switched off the faucet.

"Lucien isn’t the devil. It wasn’t his fault that his mother decided to be a mistress. Grandpa was the one who made that decision. Stop making the innocent child suffer for his parents’ sins." The words came out of my mouth before I realised. My eyes stung because this wasn’t just about Lucien.

Raphael understands that much. He reached for a towel, pressing it into my hands. His voice was calm. "I’m sorry for what Amelia said. She acts spoilt at times but she isn’t necessarily evil...You are not like your mother Braelyn." He said, hitting the nail on the head.

I had carried that stigma for the past 4 years of our childless marriage. Her parents couldn’t have a child until old age due to medical intervention. She was just like that barren old hag.

Words hurt at times more than blades. Who knew what rumours Lucien grew up shadowed by.

He wiped my hands and mouth diligently before he added. " Lucien is different and you don’t know him as well as I do. He’s a bad influence, Braelyn. You know it. He’s reckless, and you..."

"Stop using his name like it’s a curse!" I snapped, cutting him off. My voice echoed against the tiled walls. "You don’t get to judge him or me. Not after what you did."

His jaw tightened. "You’re blaming me for your actions now?"

I laughed, bitter and shaky. "Whose fault is it? Why did you think I would boycott the funeral? "

His lips parted and closed. Never seen his annoyingly handsome face so tense.

"You didn’t think about that when you held my neck." I drawled then drew down the collar of my dress to show him the faint mark he left.

In the past, he had never once thought of hitting me, but today it looked like he could kill me. "Admire your work, Raphael. Beautiful isn’t it?" How sarcastic I sounded.

For the first time, I saw genuine guilt on his face, but it meant nothing to me. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have..." He struggled to find the right words

"But you did Raphael " his eyes went wide. Realisation hits him.

"I’m truly sorry but just listen to me about Lucien. You can date anyone but don’t let that psycho taint you." He pleaded. His words were so soft and genuine, like his life depended on it. My smile didn’t falter.

"You’re unbelievable, Raphael. You literally just did the same thing and you can still blame Lucien for mine." I said calmly.

He opened his mouth but nothing came out. For a moment, I saw something flickering in his eyes, regret, pity... maybe more. It was hard to tell but it was too late for that.

I grabbed the glass, he sat down and took a sip to rinse my mouth, which I threw up before gulping down the pills. He was still standing there, watching me like he didn’t know whether to yell or reach for me.

"Just give me space," I muttered, setting the glass down. "You always find an excuse to make everything my fault."

He clenched his fists. "I’m just trying to..." he wasn’t ready to let this rest. It was perfect the way Lucien kept him on his toes.

"To what?" I hissed. "Act like a husband when it’s convenient? You should’ve thought about that before you brought her into this marriage."

The tension was suffocating. His mouth opened to reply, but the pounding on the door interrupted us again louder this time, desperate. The person hadn’t left.

I walked out of the bathroom to the bedroom. Annoying by the knocking I honestly wanted to give them a piece of my mind. He held my wrist stopping.

"We would figure this out like we always did." That was all he could say. The knocking didn’t stop. It sounded more desperate by the second.

Raphael’s brows furrowed. His head snapped to the door. "Who the hell is that?!"

I slipped my hand out of his hold.

"I’ll get it," I said, brushing past him before he could stop me. My head was still spinning, the drugs hadn’t kicked in yet, and this knocking was killing me.

The knocking wouldn’t stop. What the hell did they want?!

When I yanked the door open, the sight that greeted me made my stomach drop.

"Amelia?" I blurted.

Her face was pale, her lips trembling. Her eyes were glassy, unfocused. She looked flushed and dizzy.

"Brae..." she whispered weakly, and before I could even process what she said, her knees buckled.

"Amelia!" I gasped this time feeling her burn in my arms.

I barely managed to catch her as she collapsed against me, her skin hot and clammy. Raphael was already rushing over, his expression shifting from confusion to panic. He took her from my hands.

"Please call the doctor!" he shouted.

My heart was pounding as I watched her limp body in his arms. I rushed to grab my phone while he rushed down the hallway.

Why were things spiralling? He left like his entire world was collapsing. I rushed behind the phone, dialling

next to my ear.

She might not be the best person out there but she was genuinely not looking good at all.