Chapter 5 Unexpected Kiss

• Catherine’s P.O.V
• I barely had the cigar between my fingers for a full second before the smoke hit the back of my throat like fire. I coughed violently, bending forward as the bitterness scraped down into my lungs. My eyes watered and I waved my hand in front of my face, trying to breathe.
• “Oh my God… what is that?”
• Hunter leaned back, arms folded, watching me with that infuriating smirk. “You shouldn’t have taken the whiff directly, sweetheart.”
• I glared at him between coughs. “What does that even mean? You handed it to me like I was supposed to know what to do with it.”
• “You should’ve let me help you,” he said, his tone annoyingly smug.
• “I don’t need help,” I snapped. “I just wasn’t prepared.”
• Hunter chuckled. “Yeah? Then let me show you the right way to smoke for a beginner.”
• Before I could stop him, he plucked the cigar from my fingers. He lifted it to his lips and inhaled slowly, expertly, like he wanted to show off. I opened my mouth to tell him I wasn’t impressed, but I didn’t even get the chance.
• Suddenly, his lips were on mine, warm and firm and close.
• I froze completely as he kissed me and exhaled the smoke right into my mouth. The warmth, the pressure, the shock of it stole my breath. My lips parted against his, my body reacting before my mind could catch up. For a second, I felt myself melt into the kiss, my fingers tightening around his shirt, not pulling him closer but not pushing him away either. He kissed me like he’d wanted to do it for a long time, like he knew exactly how to make me lose balance.
• That was what snapped everything back into perspective.
• I pushed away from him so fast my head spun. “Hunter… what the hell…”
• He didn’t even have time to answer before my palm connected with his cheek in a sharp slap.
• He hissed under his breath, touching the reddening skin. “Damn, Catherine…”
• “You can never”...I pointed a shaking finger at him, “never show such audacity again.”
• He looked genuinely taken aback. “Audacity?”
• “Yes. To kiss someone else’s wife.”
• Hunter’s jaw tightened. “Catherine…”
• “Don’t ‘Catherine’ me.” My voice wavered, but I held my ground. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to touch me like that and pretend it’s nothing.”
• His gaze flicked to my lips before rising to meet my eyes again. “You think I did it because it was nothing?”
• “I don’t care why you did it,” I shot back. “I’m Xavier’s wife.”
• He scoffed softly, something bitter hidden under it. “Right. Your marriage.”
• “I swear, if you say one more thing…”
• “Relax,” he said, lifting his hands. “I’m not going to kiss you again.”
• “Good.” I swallowed hard, because the taste of him was still on my lips. “You shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”
• “For what it’s worth,” Hunter said quietly, “I know I shouldn’t have.”
• “Exactly.”
• “But you kissed me back.”
• My breath caught. “I did not.”
• “You did.”
• “That was a reflex.”
• “Reflex?” He raised a brow. “So kissing me is your reflex now?”
• “Hunter, I swear…”
• I stood there, staring at Hunter, feeling like the ground beneath me was tilting, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t soften, didn’t even pretend to be sorry. His lips curved instead, slow and deliberate, as if he was enjoying every frantic beat of my heart.
• “Catherine,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly, “soon, you’ll learn the truth. About everything. And when that day comes…” His eyes dragged down my face, lingering like a threat and a promise tangled together.
• “I’ll be right there. Waiting to catch you. Arms wide open.”
• My stomach dropped. “Hunter, what truth? What are you talking about?” My voice cracked and I hated that he heard it, hated even more that he seemed to savor it.
• He chuckled under his breath, low and dark. “You’ll understand. Not today.” He stepped closer…too close, until I could feel his breath brush my cheek. “But don’t worry, sweetheart. You won’t fall far. I won’t let you.”
• “Hunter, stop,” I whispered, taking a step back, nausea curling in my throat. “Just stop playing these games.”
• “Games?” He blinked slowly, amused. “I’m the only one here not playing, Catherine.” He turned and walked away as if he hadn’t just ripped a hole through my chest, leaving me frozen in place, lungs refusing to work.
• As soon as he disappeared around the corner, my breath came out uneven, shaky, like I’d been running for miles. I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady myself.
• “Calm down,” I whispered, but the tremor in my voice betrayed me.
• “Just calm down.” But I couldn’t. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the room was shrinking, that I was running out of air, running out of time, running out of something I didn’t even understand yet.
• I forced myself back inside, the music hitting me like a physical shove, loud and upbeat…so cruelly opposite of the storm inside my head.
• Everyone was laughing, clinking glasses, showering Xavier and me with praise, blessings, congratulations and I had to smile. I had to nod. I had to stand there as Mrs. Dalton, gracious hostess, perfect wife, polished doll. Every smile I returned felt like a lie dragging across my skin.
• “Catherine, dear, you look pale,” someone commented as they hugged me. “I’m fine,” I lied smoothly. “Just a little warm in here.”
• “Ah, look at her, that pregnancy glow,” another person chuckled.
• “Radiant.”
• I almost choked. They were now looking at Caroline, praising her as if she had just hung the moon.
• The room spun a little, but I kept standing, kept smiling, and kept thanking people who had no idea that my insides were twisting into knots. I felt like screaming, but instead I lifted champagne flutes, kissed cheeks, and allowed Lydia to parade me around right behind Caroline, whom she treated like a prized ornament.
• Finally, finally, I saw a gap in the crowd…one tiny escape route and I seized it.
• I leaned close to Lydia and murmured, “Mother, can I talk to you for a moment? Privately.”
• She looked surprised…annoyed even, but nodded. “What is it now, Catherine? Make it quick.”
• I grabbed her arm gently but firmly, pulling her aside, away from everyone else. Her eyes narrowed immediately.
• “What is this about?” she demanded. “You’re acting strange. Don’t cause a scene.”
• “Oh trust me,” I said, my voice trembling despite my efforts to hold it steady, “the last thing I want is a scene.” I swallowed hard. “But I need answers. And I need them now.”