Paul’s Trophy Wife Chapter 35

Chapter 35

“Paul, I’m- I’m so lost,” she groaned, grabbing the bottle and chugging it, nearly finishing half of it in one stretch before Paul grabbed it and pulled it back down, some wine spilling down and staining her dress.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Paul smiled, setting the bottle down, and she shook her head.

“I don’t want to stay here,” she whimpered as he grabbed her arm. “I don’t want to stay here alone.”

“I’ll stay with you, until you fall asleep,” Paul told her, and she clung to him, letting him walk her up the stairs.

“Oh Paul,” she groaned, and as they entered the bedroom, she stumbled onto the bed, pushing her dress down to the floor and collapsing, and Paul came forward, helping her undress, then tucking her in under the blankets.

“Wait!” She called, grabbing his arm, even though he wasn’t going anywhere, and she pulled him in close, pushing his face into her chest.

“Paul, Paul, please don’t go,” she groaned, and Paul climbed on top of her, grabbing her and pulling her into his arms.

“Valerie, I can’t do this to you, I can’t keep taking advantage of you, you’re vulnerable and hurting, but you chose Roger.”

“I didn’t chose Roger!” Valerie sobbed, breaking down in his arms, clutching his skin in her fingers, digging deep into his flesh. “I chose you! I chose you!”

“But-” Paul pulled back, but she held tight.

“I told him it was too late!” She sobbed, shaking her head. “I told him he couldn’t fix it, I told him I didn’t want to fix it!”

Paul’s heart was thumping so loud he could hear it. He leaned back and lied there, eyes wide, his jaw dropping, and she picked up her head.

“I was- I was going to surprise you. He didn’t believe me, he told me we’d figure it out when he got back, but I was already talking to a lawyer, I wanted, I wanted to show you the paperwork, but then I- I got the call!”

Valerie trembled as she broke down, crying and clinging to Paul for a long time before she finally regained herself.

“He l-l-left me everything!” She sobbed, and Paul sat up, taking her in his arms and cradling her. “He didn’t have kids, I was going to leave him, and then he dies and leaves me everything!”

Paul held her, rocking her back and forth slowly, unsure of what to say.

“And here I am, rich as can be, and nothing to spend it on. All the time in the world, and nobody to spend it on, because I lost you too!”

Paul shook his head, grabbing her neck and bringing her face close to his.

“You didn’t lose me,” Paul told her, kissing her, and she wrapped her arms around him, moaning and whimpering.

“You never lost me.”

**********************

Paul woke up the next day to an empty bed. The last thing he remembered was cradling Valerie as she drunkenly sobbed, slowly falling asleep.

He got up and slowly got dressed, walking downstairs to find Valerie, sitting at the dining room table, a bloody mary in her hand, sipping it slowly, looking up at him and smiling, bags under her eyes, wearing sweatpants and a tank top, her hair frazzled, only smudged make up from the night before on her face.

“Oh shit,” she groaned, rubbing her head as Paul walked down the stairs. “Don’t look at me, I look terrible.”

“You look beautiful,” Paul smiled.

“Shut up,” She smiled, standing up. “I figured I’d at least have another hour or two before you woke.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Paul smiled, leaning against the table in front of her, and she scooted towards him, wrapping her arms around his leg and leaning against him.

“Thank you for staying the night,” she whimpered, and Paul pet her hair.

“You’re welcome,” Paul smiled, pushing her back. “Here, you just relax.”

He walked off, grabbing the kitchen trash can and tying up the overflowing bag, carrying it to the front door.

“Paul, you don’t have to-” Valerie started, but Paul smiled at her.

“Hush.” He laughed, then nodded at her drink. “Haven’t you had enough to drink? For maybe a couple weeks? Months?”

Valerie snorted, hiding her face, then turned back, blushing at him.

“I’ve been on a bender since our rainy day in the park,” she admitted, sniffling and wiping a tear away. “The cumulative hangover would probably kill me, best to ease myself off slowly.”