/ Istvan – FC Rob Evans
/ Both images borrowed from their Instagram
/ I own none of these images, all used with love and respect <3
/ Rings – enoirvado / Vegas view – Instagram sin1city / Quotes – all taken from Pinterest and none had credit for where they came from.
Minutes that seemed like eternity passed as she sat on the edge of the bathtub with her head in her hands, heart thumping inside her chest.
‘What the fuck is wrong with me?!’
Istvan was a wonderful, caring, intelligent man. She was sure of her feelings; she adored him. She was confident that he loved her and their marriage was strong; stability wasn’t in question. He was a bloody King; money wasn’t an issue. They were both over 30; maturity – tick! So why did the idea of having a baby make her want to run to anywhere, as far as she could go, somewhere she could hide, concealed from his loving arms, the minute he brought it up? Shouldn’t she be delighted at the idea? ‘Breathe in, and out, slowly, slowly’ she repeated to herself, trying to settle her nerves.
His voice came through the door again. Confused. Worried.
“Viktoria? Please will you let me in?”
She cursed to herself. Viktoria stood and looked at herself in the mirror, ‘God I look awful!’ Her face was pale, blotchy and tear-stained, her eyes were rimmed with pink and her dark hair was dishevelled from their lovemaking earlier. Istvan gently knocked the door again, insisting,
“Vik, come on sweetheart, open the door, please?”
He wasn’t going to give up.
She inhaled deeply,
“Alright, hold on…” She splashed her face and smoothed down her hair before moving to unlock the door.
Istvan saw the handle move, then the heavy oak door slowly shift backwards. In the doorway she shivered, standing there in her silky little chemise, arms defensively wrapped across her chest. He look down at his wife, jaw dropping slightly at the state she’d managed to work herself into. He steadied his expression quickly, pulling her towards him, enveloping her in his strong, safe arms. He placed gentle kisses into her hair and sighed as he felt her tremble against him. Whatever ‘this’ was, he sensed he should tread carefully; being patient would get more answers than voicing the frustration her felt inside…
He pulled back to look in her eyes. Her eyes were the first thing that had struck him that night in New York. They were crystal clear and bright blue; when she smiled they glittered and danced like the waves of the warm Caribbean Sea. But tonight she wasn’t smiling. Tonight he was struggling to get her to make eye contact at all. He tipped her chin up, almost begging her to look at him,
“My love, I hate seeing you like this, can we talk about what’s going on here?“
Her voice no more than a hoarse whisper as the words left her throat,
“Istvan how can I talk to you about it, when I don’t even understand it?”
TBC -VP 💖
