Reject My Alpha President (Iris and Arthur) novel Chapter 6

#Chapter 6: Five Years Later

Iris

Five years have gone by since that fated day. Five years, and hardly a day has passed that I haven’t thought about it, about the pain that I felt in my chest I drove away from that house and the way my tears blurred the streetlights all around me.

But life goes on.

It’s been two years since I last set foot in Ordan, the city I used to love, but now I’m back. I only came back for my exhibition at the Ordan Modern Art Gallery—otherwise, I probably wouldn’t bother. This city smells like heartbreak to me now, and if this exhibition didn’t mean so much to me, I would have declined the offer. I’ve only been here out of utter necessity over the past five years. But I couldn’t turn down this opportunity.

The Marsiel Gallery is a large and brilliantly designed space, and since getting my degree five years ago I’ve dreamed of one day showing here. And now here I am, watching as the staff hang another of my over-sized canvases right where I’ve indicated on the pristine white wall.

I’m happy. My paint-stained overalls are covered in dust and dirt and there’s a hole in my favorite yellow sweater now from carrying artwork, but I can’t help but smile.

That is, until someone mentions him.

“The Alpha President and his fiancée still aren’t married,” I hear one of the gallery assistants say to another in passing, and my smile immediately fades.

Arthur.

Just thinking about him sets my heart racing, although I feign indifference. I don’t need to hear about his life, his fiancee, or his kingdom.

“I could use a snack,” I say suddenly. “Anybody else want something from the machine?”

“A Coke sounds good,” one of the assistants says, and I tak everyone’s orders and refuse offers of money, saying I’m happy to treat. Walking away, I hope they’ll pick another topic of conversation before I get back.

Even now, five years later, I still hate him. And what makes me hate him even more is that I still fucking love him.

He’s my fated mate. Of course my heart still flutters whenever I think about him, even if I want to wring his neck for the way he treated me.

When I first ran away with Brian, I tried not to look at Arthur’s face on the news, but I looked anyway. Brian even tried to stop me a few times, telling me that it wasn’t good for my mental health. But over time, I realized that I couldn’t help it. I told myself that I was just curious about the political climate in Ordan, but Brian and I both know that was a lie.

I just wanted to see if Arthur would take back the things he said. If, in some show of true love, he would turn to the camera and say, “Iris, please come back. Please. I’m so sorry. I love you.”

He never did, of course. He never even mentioned me in any of those interviews.

With a sigh, I make my way to the vending machines. I pick out an orange juice and a cookie for myself, along with everyone else’s orders, then pile everything into my arms and begin heading back to the main area.

That’s when it happens.

Fate always has a funny way of manipulating the situation, doesn’t it?

As if on cue, my foot catches on a wet floor sign, and I go pitching forward. Before I can stop myself, all of the snacks I’m carrying go flying, the orange juice in particular rolling across the floor and running into a perfectly polished black loafer.

I don’t need to look up to see whose foot that shoe belongs to, but against my better judgment, I do anyway.

He’s standing in the center of a group of people who have now gone silent, and slowly bends down to pick up the juice.

I almost consider running away, right out the front doors and all the way over the border to Bo’Arrocon without looking back. But I don’t. Not because I don’t want to, but because my body won’t let me.

Because there, now staring at me with those dark green eyes and that black hair falling into them, is Arthur.

I can’t tell if he’s surprised or resentful. Maybe both. And I feel the same.

Before I can get away, Arthur notices me. “Iris,” he says in a light tone of voice. He picks up the juice and holds it out to me.