The End of a Marriage (Colette and Matheo) novel Chapter 243

Chapter 243

CHAPTER 29

Graham leaned back in the leather seat of the car, his hands clasped loosely in his lap, yet tension radiated through every fiber of his being. The silence between them was heavy, almost suffocating. punctuated only by the hum of the engine as the car navigated the quiet streets of the city. Isla sat beside him, her posture rigid, her arms folded across her chest as she stared out of the window, her

expression distant and cold. She looked small and fragile, her defiance dimmed for once, replaced by something that made her

or vulnerable. Sad. Almost breakable.

m’s gaze lingered on her, the frustration boiling inside him

eatening to spill over. He couldn’t shake the question that had

been gnawing at him for weeks now: Why Isla? Why her, of all

people? Why had he gone to such absurd lengths to convince this

obstinate, maddeningly foolish woman to marry him?

His father’s words echoed faintly in his memory, vague suggestions

about looking after Isla once he was gone. Graham had thought it

meant ensuring she was taken care of, that she was safe and stable. Not once had his father explicitly said marry her. The old man was

pragmatic, not romantic–he had likely envisioned financial support

or perhaps a distant guardianship. Not this.

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And yet, here Graham was, pouring his time, energy, and resources

into chasing after a woman who wanted nothing to do with him in

that way. Why? He had never been one to pine after rejection. He was

Graham Lancaster–a man accustomed to women swooning over him,

hanging on his every word, desperate for his attention. Isla, on the

other hand, had barely batted an eye at his charm. She had met his

proposals with a bluntness that bordered on infuriating. And yet, he .

had not walked away.

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He should have. Any other woman would have been dismissed

without a second thought. But Isla wasn’t just any woman. She had

burrowed under his skin, and the more she resisted, the deeper she

got. What started as an affront to his ego had twisted into something

else entirely—something that was no longer about pride or wounded

vanity. It had become about her. About the way her laughter lingered

in his mind long after she had left the room. About the way her

stubbornness matched his own, igniting a fire in him that no one else

ever had. About the way her presence made his world feel

maddeningly chaotic yet startlingly alive.

And then there was tonight. That dress. That smile. That look in her

eyes when she had been dancing. The way other men had watched

her, admired her, touched her–those images played on a loop in his

mind, fueling a possessiveness he had never experienced before.

Graham had tried to tell himself he was angry because he was

protecting her, shielding her from the world. But it wasn’t protection

that had driven him to pull her into his arms on that dance floor. It

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was desire. Pure, unfiltered lust. He was going crazy with it.

And the bare truth was this- he was hell damned and god wanted to

fuck this girl and there was no denying it. He winced at his own

vulgarity. But there was no difference how he said it, it was what he

wanted! The physical need for her was killing him and that was the

reason behind all his distraction. And all this nonsense behind the

marriage talk.

As the car rolled to a stop at a red light, Graham’s eyes swept over

Isla once more. Even now, with her head tilted away, her face framed

by loose strands of hair, she managed to captivate him. He clenched

his jaw, a muscle ticking in his temple. He wanted her. Not just

physically–though God knew his body ached with the kind of need

that had kept him awake at night–but completely. He wanted her

fire, her passion, her stubbornness, her vulnerability. He wanted

every piece of her, even the parts she kept guarded.

But tonight, he couldn’t deny it any longer: his desire for Isla was primal, raw, and overwhelming. The way her skin had felt under his

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