Black Keys (The Colorblind Trilogy #1) - Rose B. Mashal Page 0,140

from the couch after murmuring, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” That was about all he said before disappearing into the bathroom.

What the…?

I turned on the couch, touching my feet to the floor, with my hand still clutching the dress to my chest, my mouth agape, my eyes wide and mind confused. I stared at the closed bathroom door. For ages.

What on earth was that? We were–… And he was–… And I was just so–… What’s his problem?

When I felt like I’d wondered enough and there was no point in pondering it–even more because everything led to a dead end when I searched for an answer or an explanation for his actions–I got up, adjusting my bra back into place only to have my dress fall to form a pile around my feet, leaving me wearing only my bra and panties.

I was too pissed to care, to be honest, and just kicked the dress away and walked over to the bed, hiding under the covers and getting lost in my thoughts and feelings.

I felt...rejected, and I had no freaking clue why he’d just stopped that way, feeling all guilty, then apologizing before disappearing into the bathroom and taking his sweet time inside. It felt like it had been hours since he’d gone in there.

I lay on my side and stared straight ahead at the window. The night was dark, and the slight wind was ruffling the light curtains slowly.

I kept thinking of all of the possible reasons why he’d acted that way, coming up with one scenario after another to answer the questions in my head.

I thought that maybe he’d thought I wasn’t okay with it? But how could he think that way? I was the one who’d started it, I was the one who’d straddled his lap, and I was the one who gave him her ‘Yes’ when he asked for permission. How could he think that I didn’t want it, and that he needed to apologize for it? No, that couldn’t be it.

My mind tried to think that maybe he hadn’t liked doing that with me. Maybe I felt wrong to him? Maybe he wanted someone else? Something else? But, no. I’d felt it. I’d felt how much he desired me and how much he wanted me.

Just thinking of the possibility that he might really still be engaged, to that girl who looks like an angel but speaks like the devil, tied my stomach in knots, because the guilt in his eyes had no other explanation than that he felt as if he was cheating on her with me, or something along those lines. The thought of how good he was, how it was very clear that it wasn’t the first time he’d touched a girl that way–his hands and tongue belonged to an expert. The fact that he knew of a zipper in my dress that I didn’t know anything about, and how he might have dealt with something like that before, made my chest tighten and ache at the same time. It wasn’t a nice feeling...at all.

I knew he’d never had sex with anyone before, because he told me it was a grave sin in his religion to have sex outside of marriage and he wouldn’t do that. Just the thought of him fooling around with someone else almost made me lose my mind with the amount of jealousy I was feeling–which was very stupid of me–but I couldn’t help it.

I hated that I might not be good enough for him. I hated that he might not be able to trust me after what I’d done, even though he’d said he understood my reasons. I thought maybe he needed someone of his race and beliefs, even if he was very open-minded about our different cultures and religions. Maybe he needed someone who spoke his language, someone who addressed him with ‘Your Highness’ and ‘Your Majesty’ while meaning it, and not actually mocking him like I once had.

Maybe it was just that...he loved her.

My stomach twisted even more, and I swore I could feel my heart as it clenched in my chest. I started biting the inside of my cheeks, a nasty habit that I’d always had when really, really nervous about something I couldn’t control. After what felt like two years and three months, the prince came out of the bathroom.

I didn’t move.

I heard him as he opened the door to the closet, and went in there, staying for longer than anyone would need to get dressed,