I couldn't tear my eyes away from him, effortlessly mingling with the high society crowd. There she was, that woman, clinging onto his arm. I had no clue about their relationship, but they seemed pretty close, maybe even friends. She had this fierce and cunning aura, like a female version of Denver. A total opposite to me.
I sat at my table, drinking a glass of wine I snagged from a passing waiter. He glanced at me, as if he recognized me, but I brushed off the thought. My focus was on Denver, who appeared to be watching me in return.
My hopes of mustering the courage to approach him were dashed when I spotted him with that woman. It was the first time I had seen him with someone since our separation. Well, at least, I think so. There was this one time when someone called his phone, and I swear it was a woman's voice, but I might have been mistaken. Now, seeing it with my own eyes, I couldn't deny the truth.
I felt a whirlwind of emotions, unsure of how to process it all. I didn't want to cling to the hope that he still considered himself mine, especially considering we were only married on paper. It had been over a year since we last saw each other, and feelings can change over time. I had no rights to claim him as my own, no assurance that he still felt the same.
Maybe this situation was better than silently betraying each other. I wasn't even sure if it qualified as betrayal since we both moved on. I just assumed he was still my husband since the annulment paper remained unsigned. It left me in a confusing state, questioning what to feel and how to navigate this unexpected turn of events.
I smiled through the pain as a familiar face approached me. He was around my age, probably a colleague from C.H.U. His hair was styled up, perfectly complementing his facial features. With his fair skin and captivating blue eyes, he looked quite dashing in his suit.
"You're Sharmienne, right?" he asked, his voice friendly. 
"Yeah, that's me," I replied, a bit taken aback by his sudden approach.
"I've seen you around at the bar. Didn't realize you were a bit aloof," he said, scratching his nape. "Wanna dance?"
"Oh, um, no. I'm actually here with someone—" I began, but before I could finish, a familiar voice interrupted us.
"Duke, you made it!" the voice called out.
I turned around to see Clyde in his sleek gray suit, striding towards us with a glass of wine in his hand. As he reached us, he greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and then glanced at the guy in front of me.
"Saint's outside. He's with Melissa," Clyde informed him.
"Oh, perfect. I better go then," the guy, apparently named Duke, said. He looked at me apologetically before leaving.
"Why bother coming here, huh?" Clyde asked me once Duke was out of earshot. I shrugged, focusing on sipping my wine, while Clyde chuckled at my response.
"Should I answer that, Clyde?" I retorted, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm your brother-in-law, Sharmienne. I wanna know," he replied, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. He reached out and playfully tousled my hair, but quickly pulled back when he noticed my furrowed expression. "Oh, sorry. It's just a habit I have with my best friend."
"You still look like a boy to me," I muttered, brushing off his comment. "I think I should head home now."
"You still didn't answer my question," Clyde persisted, his tone curious.
"I don't really have a concrete reason. I just wanted to give him a gift," I confessed.
"Ah, I see," Clyde insisted. "Come on, Sharmienne. I'm really bored here. Let me give you a tour of our house too. You're still my favorite sister-in-law, so you have that privilege."
I rolled my eyes at his playful antics, but couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. "You're still as childish and stubborn as ever, Clyde."
"Didn't mean to annoy you," he smirked and extended his hand towards me. "Shall we?"
I sighed, giving in to his persistent charm, and placed my hand in his. "Fine," I conceded. Together, we made our way to the parking lot to retrieve the gift I had brought. It was neatly wrapped and ready to be presented.
"Denver really has a lucky ass," Clyde muttered. We strode together through a dimly lit corridor, using the discreet back entrance to avoid drawing attention. In his arms, he carried the gift I had brought, careful not to draw too much notice. "We were separated when we were young, you know. I never had the chance to get close to him."
I nodded, taken aback by Clyde's unexpected openness. Denver's perspective had always been my primary source of information, making Clyde's insight a fresh and surprising revelation.
"Well, now you have the chance," I offered, trying to sound encouraging.
Clyde shrugged, a distant expression clouding his features as he set the gift down on a nearby table. "I still feel distant from him," he admitted, his voice laced with resignation. Then, a mischievous smirk played on his lips. "But I'll be sure to tell him about your gift."
I sighed, realizing that my attempt to console him had fallen short. "At least you're here, Clyde. You're making an effort to reconcile, right?"
He didn't answer directly, simply nodding as if dismissing my words. My gaze shifted from Clyde's back to the figure that had silently appeared behind him. Leaning against the corner of the doorway, his eyes fixated on us, particularly on me. The air seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension.
"Denver?" My voice quivered, revealing my unease as I faced him.
"So, you're alone with my brother now?" Denver's tone was cold and dismissive, his gaze cutting through me while Clyde attempted to diffuse the tension with his chuckles.
"We're not doing anything," Clyde's laughter echoed in the room, as if he hadn't even been startled by Denver's sudden appearance. As if he knew his brother was there all along. "I knew you'd notice her. You're just being defensive."
"Shut up, Clyde!" Denver hissed before shooting a quick glance in my direction.
"Just tell me to leave, brother," Clyde goaded Denver, seemingly testing the limits of his brother's patience. He winked at me, a signal that he was about to exit the room. "We'll talk later."
"Clyde!" I called out, intending to follow him, but he waved his hand dismissively and said, "Ciao."
I didn't want to be alone with Denver, especially after witnessing what I had seen. I glanced at him as he approached, my steps involuntarily taking me backward until I felt the edge of the table against my back, where Clyde had placed the portrait I had made.
"Denver... I can explain," I stammered, my voice filled with apprehension.
"Why? Why are you making this hard for me?" He halted, leaving a mere inch of space between us. My breath hitched as he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, exposing my shoulder and neck.
Leaning in, his jawline brushed gently against my left cheek, his warm breath grazing my ear as he whispered in a low, husky tone.
"You're a temptress, my wife."
"Denver..." I managed to utter, my voice barely a whisper.
He inhaled deeply, and I gasped as his tongue lightly traced my earlobe. My grip tightened on his shoulder as I was taken aback by his unexpected actions.
"I've been trying to control myself, to keep my distance," he confessed, his words laced with desire. "But here you are... on my birthday, dressed in that seductive attire... You're a beauty that should be kept hidden, meant only for me, my wife."
His kisses trailed down from my ear to my neck, his teeth nibbling gently on my shoulder blade, sending shivers down my spine.
"Denver..." I gasped, my voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and desire.
"That's it. Moan my name, Sharmienne," he whispered, his voice husky and seductive.
His lips traveled up my jawline, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. With every delicate touch, my skin ignited with a delightful ticklish feeling. His arms pulled me closer, creating an invisible magnetic force that drew us together, the air around us charged with an electric energy.
In that moment, time seemed to stand still as our bodies yearned for the intimate connection that awaited us. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, thick with desire. And when our lips finally met, it was as if the world burst into a symphony of sensations—a harmonious blend of longing and tenderness that fueled a fire deep within our souls.
His kisses found their way to my lips, exploring them with his playful tongue, and I welcomed him wholeheartedly. I clung to him, my arms wrapped around his neck, as the intensity of our passion intensified. He discarded his suit, revealing a physique that had become even more sculpted and firm since the last time I laid eyes on him.
His kiss was a revelation, a perfect fusion of gentle brushes and an insatiable hunger. Our tongues entwined in a passionate dance, and with every caress, a surge of desire coursed through my veins, igniting my senses. His hands, both rough and tender, traversed the curves of my body, leaving trails of searing heat in their wake. Each touch set off a spark, igniting a wildfire of anticipation that consumed us both.
In the realm we had entered, time seemed to stretch, allowing us to explore the depths of our desires without constraints. Every touch, every stroke, conveyed unspoken vows of love and devotion, as we delved into the secret recesses of our beings. Boundaries blurred, and the weight of the world melted away, leaving only the raw passion and intimacy that bound us together.
His hand found its way to my breast, his touch gentle yet filled with desire. A soft moan escaped my lips, muffled by the passionate exchange of kisses with Denver. Each kiss was an embodiment of longing and craving, fueling the fire that burned between us.
"Oh..." I breathed out, my voice a mixture of pleasure and longing, as Denver skillfully removed the strap of my dress with his mouth, his lips grazing against my shoulder. The dress fell away, revealing my exposed breast, which he eagerly lavished with his tongue. His touch was tender, his nibbles sending waves of pleasure through my body, before he gently pinched my nipple. The sensation overwhelmed me, and I found myself gasping for more, caught up in the intoxicating passion of the moment.
But amidst the whirlwind of desire, I knew I needed to talk to him. Not like this. Not in the throes of passion. I looked into his eyes, my own filled with a dreamy intensity, as I gathered the strength to speak.
"I... I want us to talk," I managed to utter, my voice laced with a mix of vulnerability and determination. I gently pushed him away, feeling a sudden exhaustion wash over me. His gaze softened, as if a realization had dawned upon him. His grip on my back loosened, and he helped me to my feet, a touch of concern in his eyes. It was then that his gaze fell upon the portrait I had made.
Before delving into conversation, Denver took a moment to help me fix my dress and smooth out my ruffled hair. I blushed, the memories of our passionate encounter still fresh in my mind, a reminder of the undeniable craving we had for each other. I had missed him so deeply that I had surrendered to his touch and kisses without hesitation.
"Denver..." I spoke his name softly, a mix of love and certainty lingering in the air. “I miss you, hubby.”
"Sha, don't make this any harder," he whispered, his voice filled with confusion. I gently cupped his face, my touch offering solace and reassurance.
"You're not angry with me?" I asked, my fingers tenderly stroking his hair while my other hand caressed his cheek. His gaze met mine, filled with a mixture of tenderness and longing.
"Why would I be angry at you? If anything, it should be me asking that question," he replied, his fingers tracing the scars on my back where the bullets had once pierced my skin. The memories of that pain still lingered, leaving visible marks.
His eyes held a deep sorrow, mirroring the scars etched on my body. "How can I be close to you when I couldn't even protect you, my wife? It's safer for us to keep our distance."
"But, Denver..."
"We can endure this, Sha. Let's pretend we're strangers, as if we've never met before. Not now, not when everyone's lives are at stake."
"No..." I shook my head, rejecting his suggestion.
"You'll be better off without me, won't you? Keep living your life, free from the dangers that surround me. Don't get tangled up with my gang or those connected to me." His touch on my cheek was gentle. "I can find a way to move forward. I'll try."
"Are you seriously asking me to let go?" My voice trembled with raw emotion, teetering between hope and despair. "Denver, I'm in love with you. It's always been you, and it always will be. Please... don't leave me."
My plea hung in the air, echoing the depth of my feelings. The vulnerability in my eyes was mirrored by the tumultuous battle of emotions on Denver's face. A flicker of longing danced in his gaze, warring with the weight of his burdens.
He reached out, his hand trembling as it brushed against my cheek, his touch a bittersweet caress. His voice cracked with unspoken yearning as he whispered, "Sharmienne, I can't bear to imagine a life without you. But I'm torn... torn between my love for you and the dangers that surround us."
Tears welled up in my eyes as the weight of his words settled in my heart. The love between us was undeniable, yet the world seemed determined to keep us apart. But I refused to give up without a fight. I clung to his hand, refusing to let go.
His eyes glistened as he looked into my soul. "I love you, Sharmienne. More than words can express. Every moment we've spent apart has been agony for me. I ache to hold you close, to feel your presence, your touch." 
In that moment, his words echoed like a sweet melody, mingling with the symphony of my tears. Tears cascaded down my cheeks, carrying with them the weight of our shared emotions. Denver stood before me, his eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and anguish. 
"You have no idea how much I long to stay with you, to be by your side always. I miss having you close, feeling your warmth."
My heart ached at his words, knowing that the promises I had made had been shattered, leaving behind a trail of shattered trust and endangered lives.
"But I made a promise, didn't I? And look at what I've done. I've let you down and placed your life in danger."
Regret laced his voice as he spoke, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and sorrow. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, his brows furrowing with self-condemnation.
"I never wanted to bring harm to you, Sharmienne. I swore to protect you, but I failed. I'm sorry."
His words hung heavy in the air, the weight of his remorse palpable. The pain etched on his face mirrored the ache in my heart.
"Denver..."
He reached out, his hand gently brushing against mine, a flicker of determination gleaming in his eyes. "In the right time, Sharmienne. When things are safer, when everything is okay, then we can be together. I'll pursue you again, just like what I've been yearning to do."