Love's Last Gamble

With a glass of champagne in her hand, Delilah stood in the middle of her art gallery, looking out over the sea of elegantly attired visitors who were taking in her creations. The air was filled with enthusiastic whispers, and while words like "brilliant," "visionary," and "revolutionary" drifted around her, they failed to cut through the mist in her chest. She was feeling depleted. Being loved by so many people and yet feeling so... far away was an odd experience.

Although her gallery, a modern setting with white walls and polished hardwood floors that displayed her most recent works of art, was humming with the prospect of success, the silent pain inside of her persisted. She had been reconstructing herself for years, giving her everything to her art, but she had lost herself somewhere in the process. The short-lived joy of compliments was insufficient to bridge the gap.

The abrupt silence of the gathering near the entryway cut through the clinking of glasses. Delilah's pulse accelerated and her breath caught. Instinctively, she turned to the door.

Cooper West was standing there. A phantom from her past, the man who once promised her forever. His towering body filled the doorway with strength and assurance. Sharp face, dark hair, and regret-tinged eyes that once adored her. For him, time seemed to have stopped completely.

As their gazes locked across the room, her heart thumped in her chest. He was still dressed in the same fucking suit that she had once loved, and he still exuded the haughty indifference that had both captivated and stifled her. As if the years of silence had never happened, the tension between them was evident.

His eyes never left hers as he took a step forward. She was immobile, but every step he made felt heavy and pressed into her chest. She was having trouble breathing.

Her legs almost buckled under her as he spoke her name, "Delilah." Never before had her name sounded so honest and repentant.

At the edge of the room, he paused, the suppressed silence mixed with the whispered voices of the crowd. It was just him and her there, in the harsh fluorescent lights. Everything else became inconspicuous.

With a steady tone but the weight of a thousand unspoken apologies, he stated, "We need to talk."

Delilah felt a knot in her stomach. She could already feel the barriers of fury she had erected around herself beginning to crumble, and the words he said were only a mirage. However, why now? Why, after everything? Her heartbeat accelerated. After years of devastation, could he really be standing in front of her?

She stiffened. He was the last thing she needed this evening.

In an attempt to quiet her pounding heart, Delilah excused herself and withdrew to the gallery's corner. With her palm clutching the glass's edge as though it could support her, she leaned against the chilly marble wall. With everyone's conversation now dwindling to a far-off hum, the atmosphere felt oppressive. The only sound she could hear was the irregular and faint sound of her breath.

He's here, but why?

She had promised, after the divorce, to never let him back into her life. She had completely rebuilt herself, transforming her suffering into something strong and lovely. However, everything she had buried deep inside was awakened by the sight of him, standing there like a ghost from her past.

She was overcome with memories of his warmth, his touch, and their laughter from years before. The life they used to live together. She could never forget the memories that accompanied those, though, such as the hollow of his words when he informed her it meant nothing and the coldness in his eyes as he admitted his betrayal.

She was too familiar with that night. Her anniversary. She thought they were beginning over, so she had everything ready. However, things fell apart as the evening went on. The murmurs. The truth that had been concealed by dishonesty and falsehoods. He had left her broken in a stranger's bed after drugging and manipulating her.

He had assured her that she would overcome it. However, she never did. Nor would she.

Delilah took a long breath, battling the wrath swelling inside her. She had to stop him from winning. Never again. Not after all that he had done to her. Steeling herself, she brushed a stray tear from her cheek.

But as she looked back across the room, she saw him once more, that familiar desperation in his eyes as his gaze searched for her. That's when she sensed it. The draw. The risky impulse to reenter, to listen to him, to give him an explanation.

She was suddenly unsure of her ability to resist.

What's he trying to say?

Her feet felt stuck to the ground, even though her mind begged her to get up and move. She was worn out. tired of being haunted by the past. I'm sick of clinging to something that never was.

Then his voice came to her once more. This time, it was harsher, piercing through the hum of the crowd.

"Until we speak, I won't be leaving." He spoke in a hard, uncompromising tone.

A beat skipped in Delilah's heart. There was no getting away from him.

Her thoughts were racing. She was unable to think clearly. This caught her off guard. The scars were too deep, the memories too recent. As if nothing had ever happened, he was standing in front of her and demanding her attention.

She forced herself to look him in the eye and breathed, "Cooper." There was a glimmer of something other than the boiling rage. Vulnerability. Did he truly feel this sorry?

He was near now, his body a continual reminder of the life they had together, his presence overwhelming her. "Please," he uttered quietly. Listen to me, please. Since we split up, I've been dealing with this regret every single day.

Her eyes darted across his face, looking for any hint of genuineness. All she could see, though, was the man who had betrayed her confidence. More than anyone else, the man had wounded her.

However, his eyes had changed. Something flickered, reminding her of the man she had loved. Is it truly regret?

His voice was hoarse with sorrow as he went on, "Delilah, I never meant to destroy you." "What I did was incorrect. And I've wished I could take it back every single day of my life.

Her breath caught. Her heart hurt. She wanted to believe him. She desired to grasp him, to inquire as to why. But she knew better than to trust the same lies.

"I don't know what you want from me, Cooper," she said, her voice trembling with anger and confusion. "You had your chance. And you ruined it."

She saw his face flinch, like though her words had hit him in the face. He took a step closer, his hand extending for hers, slowly, hesitantly, as if testing whether she would pull away. She wanted to pull away, but there was something inside her that longed to hold onto him, if only for a moment.

Cooper's voice dropped, low and pleading. "I still love you, Delilah. I didn't stop.

She feared she would break for a second as her heart wrenched. However, she was unable to. Never again.

Was this real, she thought as she saw his eyes? Or was this merely a ruse?

"Do you really think you can just waltz back into my life after everything you did?" she asked, her voice strained.

"I'll do whatever it takes to make it right," he replied after he paused.

Delilah's chest tightened. Was he really sorry? Would she ever be able to trust him?

She took a step back, shaking her head. Cooper, you can't make this better. No more.

Yet even as she uttered those words, a part of her wondered if forgiveness was still possible.