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I'll Remember	By : Mallie-3 Category: Dragon Ball Z > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 1079 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or any of the characters, nor do I make any profit what so ever.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter 8

I'll Remember

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or any of the characters associated with the anime/manga.

Word Count: 5,763

ooOoo

I am glad you are enjoying the orange roses I bought for you…

A pair of bright blue eyes snapped open followed by a deep moan. Her mother was the last person she needed to speak to the other day. It intensified her life stresses, which there were too many to keep track of.

Bulma rolled over, pulling the white comforter over her head. Her eye sockets ached, her limp body hurt in random places, and her stomach swirled with a nauseating feeling. At any moment she feared she would have to rush to the bathroom just to relieve herself of the growing tension in her belly. Why did she think that comfort drinking would fix anything? There were a lot of things lately she regretted immensely.

She had come home the previous night craving everything unhealthy, which resulted in greasy pizza and two whole bottles of wine to herself. She needed that unhealthy binge after the conversation she and her mother had less than 24 hours later.

She had to come up with a ridiculous lie just to get her mother off her back. Bulma knew that woman was persistent and it would only be a matter of time when she figured it out and this complicated affair was uncovered.

The blue haired heiress took in a deep breath and ran a hand through her aqua strands, forcing wispy pieces flat. She pulled her body up from the bed and padded over to the bathroom to brush the horrible taste from her mouth.

Hopefully the taste of the toothpaste didn't upset her stomach any more than the thought already had. She lifted her gaze to see a pair of ocean blue, blood shot eyes staring back at her. Sighing softly, Bulma reached up to rub her finger tips over her swollen eyes.

Her mother was such a pain. It felt like the entire city of Tokyo was resting upon her shoulders and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

Bulma's violent motions were quick, but thorough when scrubbing her teeth. The taste was too bitter for her liking and the only thing on her mind at the moment besides her situation was water.

Damn you Vegeta…why didn't you think before sending me those flowers? It's not like people would turn their head and not ask questions…

She leaned into the marble countertop and spit, followed by rising out the bowl of the sink before exiting and shutting off the fluorescent lights.

Her eyes flashed to the clock in her kitchen to see the time read, 2 pm. She had slept in way too late. Bulma then walked to her apartment phone, which the tiny light flashed the number '5' upon it, letting her know she had five messages.

Her head dropped back, causing her messy aqua locks to cascade down the length of her back. She slipped her eyes closed as she took in a deep breath before pressing the tiny button, which played the recorded messages.

Three of the five messages were from her mother, asking where she was. The last one was at 1:50. It would only be a matter of time until her mother decided to make an appearance. She was not happy about her constant nagging, nor was she excited to have to face her in person. She hoped that her doorbell didn't go off because she was in no mood to see much of anyone today.

Bulma scrubbed her hands over her face and slowly made her way to the coffee pot where she started to brew her daily coffee. She wanted it black, just the way she liked it for the past six years. It was plain and simple, just like her life had been up until a few weeks ago.

"Shit…" Bulma cursed under her breath.

Yamcha…

She had dinner plans with her fiancé later and she knew it would make her look even worse to ditch the poor guy after avoiding him for as long as she had been.

Bulma poured herself a full cup of black coffee, staring into the cup and watching the warm steam rise from the contents.

Finally, after a few moments to allow the cup to cool slightly, Bulma tested the coffee. She sipped softly at the black liquid, enjoying the bitter taste as it coated her tongue.

Her eyes slipped to the door, hearing a plethora of curse words seeping through her thick door. At that moment she was glad to see her door was locked. No one had access to the top floor without the key and the only other person who had that key was…

"Bulma Briefs…open this door…" the sound of loud thumping upon the wood caused the blue haired woman's head to lull back and a groan to emote from her moist lips.

Bulma's feet lazily slid over the wooden floors as she made her way toward the door to open each lock, starting from the top and working her way down.

She flung the door open to see the blonde haired woman before her with an eyebrow cocked and a hand on her hip. A designer bag was hanging from her arm, accenting her thousand dollar outfit. Mrs. Briefs immediately took a step into the penthouse apartment without actually being invited in. The older woman's eyes were filled with anger and disappointment.

Bulma watched her with her coffee mug in hand as she casually dropped her bad on the counter and inspected the apartment. The clicking of her heals could be heard in almost every room and finally made their way back into the kitchen. Her mother's blue eyes fell upon the open pizza box and the two bottles of wine near the sink.

"Pizza and wine, was Yamcha over last night?" Mrs. Briefs crossed her arms over her bountiful cleavage.

"Nope just me, myself, and I… There were some pretty good lifetime shows on last night. What better way to enjoy them than with some greasy food and a good bottle of cheap wine." Bulma shrugged and took a drink from her steaming cup of coffee.

"Two bottles of wine…" Bulma's mother made a funny face, "You really are getting cold feet aren't you?" Her mother walked up to her, reaching out her claw like finger nails to groom her daughter.

Bulma swatted her mother's hand away, offering her a funny look, "Mother, I wasn't lying when I told you I didn't want to marry him. I could care less if I am single for the rest of my life." She threw up a hand and turned around, setting her coffee cup upon the countertop.

"You honestly want to be an old maid? Bulma, sometimes I feel like you were switched with my actual daughter at birth. You have no qualities of mine. We women need to just….endure what their families wish. I was required to marry your father, like I have told you plenty of times, and look at me. I am very happy." Her red lips curled up in a grin.

"No mother, you are happy with the amount of money Daddy allows you to spend daily. That isn't love." Her hands gripped her hips, allowing her eyes to drop to her bare feet and wiggled her toes.

Mrs. Briefs shrugged, sighing dramatically in the process, "What is it with you and all this lovey dovey crap? You were completely fine with your betrothal some years ago and as of recently you have been god awful. Like I said before Bulma, I will find out if you are fooling around behind Yamcha's back." The woman pointed a long nail at her daughter.

Bulma shot the older woman an irritated side glance, "I am going out with him tonight, if that makes you happy. I figured I would after the amount of time I have spent away from him. Damn it mom, I am trying to accept this, but it is really hard when you don't have feelings for someone. To think you have to be with that person for the rest of your life and possibly force yourself to procreate." A shudder traveled the length of her body, which showed clearly upon her features.

"You may not love him at first, but you definitely learn to love. Yamcha is doting. You should be grateful, Bulma." Mrs. Briefs straightened her suit vest and pulled her designer bag up onto her forearm, preparing to leave.

"I would be grateful if you allowed me to choose my own husband." Bulma shot back.

"Bulma…" her mother warned before turning to face the door, "Shower and get your butt to work. Your father is not happy to see you were not in at nine. The fundraiser is in a few days and there is much to be planned." The sassy woman walked into the hallway and shot a smile over her shoulder, "Oh by the way, I had Ella dispose of those horrible flowers. I know they were from an admirer, as you claimed, so I figured they should be disposed of since they have no meaning. I hope you don't mind." Mrs. Briefs wiggled her manicured fingers at her daughter and disappeared down the short hall to the elevator.

Bulma's mouth dropped open slightly as she tapped her fingers over her lips. That woman was getting on her last nerve. Gosh, she needed to get away before she lost it.

ooOoo

The soft pants in his ear created a shockwave down the length of his spine and settled between his straining thighs. It was so erotic the way a single touch had this woman's body aflame. His rough hands smoothed around her soft thigh, gripping the back of them tightly as his hips pressed forward to sink into the warm flesh that now circled him.

Her soft fingertip caressed down the glistening flesh of his chest as another audible moan escaped her swollen lips.

Vegeta's dark lidded eyes lifted from her full heaving breasts to watch her sweat drenched face contort into expressions of passion. Her blue orbs lifted to meet his loving stare as his hand slid up to grip softly around her neck. Bulma's parted lips slowly formed into a grin. Her hair was tousled in her face, which enticed him even more.

Vegeta's head dropped back, moaning softly as he quickened his pace. The ache to find his release was too much to bear.

"Vegeta…please…" her soft soothing voice whispered in his ear, as her tongue caressed over the shell of his ear.

"Hn," his reply was as he formed a smirk on his features and gripped her thighs tighter.

"Vegeta…"

"You feel so good, woman…" he leaned his forehead against her sweat covered shoulder.

"Vegeta…"

Vegeta lifted his head to press his lips over the blue haired heiress before him to shut her up as he rode her.

"Vegeta…" the aqua haired model whispered into Vegeta's ear. Her hands shook him softly, which she was rewarded with a groan of annoyance.

Vegeta let a soft breath escape his nostrils His dark eyes slid open slowly, staring intently at the ceiling. He had stirred with the soft caresses upon his chest. The feel of soft fingertips was a good way to wake up from a lusty dream. Of course his good mood quickly faded when he realized who was lying beside him. It was not the fingertips of the beautiful heiress in which had seeped her way into his dreams, but the woman he now called 'wife'.

His dark eyes reluctantly shifted toward the woman who now lay beside him with an arm draped casually over his chiseled form. Her lips were trailing up his pectoral muscle to his shoulder, which before she could begin anything with him he sat up. His hands were buried deep in his onyx locks of hair and gripping tightly within the mass.

His legs flipped over the edge of the King sized bed, while his elbows leaned onto the tops of his thighs. His breathing was cool and relaxed, but his body had subconsciously reacted to a woman who was not present. The painful pulsing in his boxers was causing him much frustration, especially after a dream like he had just been having about a specific blue haired woman. He instantly placed a pillow over the front of his boxers, trying to contain himself.

"Are you alright, sweetie?" Maron asked leaning over in her frilly little outfit to get a better view of her husband.

Her light blue eyes shifted toward the pillow, which was covering his boxers and in a matter of seconds a playful grip formed on her lips. Maron flipped some of her aqua colored locks from her eyes as she crawled forward, offering him a bountiful view of fake breasts. If he were to only turn his head slightly he would get an eye full.

"Would you like me to make you some breakfast this morning, my husband?" Maron giggled playfully as she was still getting used to the title.

Vegeta sighed softly and nodded without a word, keeping his face in his palms and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Maron's lips pursed tightly seeing he still had yet to look upon her body. He hadn't touched her the night before, which usually when she had been gone for a long week she would have him all over her when she arrived home. She told herself it was because he was busy. He did work very hard.

She finally pulled her body up to a kneeling position and slid a hand down his tight back, creeping another hand under the pillow to grip his extremely hard manhood, which was begging to bust free from the confides of his boxers.

Maron's eyes widened as her fingertips brushed over the length and gripped around him to feel how hard he was. Her tongue dipped out to wet her plump lips and experimentally began to move her hand only to have him grip it tightly with his own and softly nudge it away. His wife's eyes knitted tightly as a hurt expression flashed over her features.

"I'm going to take a shower," he said gruffly, standing instantly. He did not care that there was a large tent in his under garment.

Maron blinked a few times and hopped off the bed, standing before the bathroom door, watching him make his way toward the shower. He paused before he rounded the corner and watched her, allowing his eyes to shift over her frame a moment. His expression was blank, which bothered her.

"Well, would you like me to join you? I could…get rid of that," she pointed a French tipped index finger toward the massive hardened length in his boxers.

Vegeta scrubbed his face with one hand and shook his head, "Go make us breakfast, I want to shower alone." He said coldly and disappeared into the walk in shower.

Maron pouted childishly, turning with anger in her body language as she slipped a robe over her shoulders. She tightened the tie and stomped her way toward the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

Maron stepped into the kitchen. The maid stepped out of the laundry room with freshly folded laundry and smiled, "Good morning Mrs. Ouji. It's good to see you home."

"Make breakfast for Mr. Ouji. He demanded food this morning. Food is what he wants, not his wife who he has not seen in a week and a half, but food." Maron sighed dramatically and sat upon one of the bar stools brushing dramatically at her bloodshot eyes, that now had tears spilling free.

The maid's smile disappeared as her eyes shifted around the room, "Oh ok, I will make you both breakfast right away, Mrs. Ouji." The maid turned around to prepare breakfast for the couple.

ooOoo

His eyes were closed as he laid his head on the hard tiles of the shower. The warmth of the water felt amazing on his tense muscles, which were slowly loosening as the pleasure subsided. His large hand gripped his softening member, but quickly eased the grip as he stepped away from the wall and rinsed off before turning the water off.

Vegeta stepped out of the shower, beads of water running down his toned body as he reached for a towel. His hand gripped the royal blue towel tightly and rubbed his onyx hair thoroughly to extract all of the water from his quick shower.

The flame haired man wrapped the towel around his waist tightly before reaching in to run a hand over the fogged mirror. He took a good look at his reflection, pondering the events that had happened the week before.

He had cheated on his wife with the one woman he truly ever cared about, but the one thing that bothered him was he didn't care much for his wife's feelings. He didn't care that he had cheated. He had forced the guilt from the pit of his stomach the night they spent together, but all that guilt went away when he finally, after six years, lay with her.

His eyes darted to the side to see the filled garbage can. A package of pills was discarded on the top. His eyes narrowed as he leaned in to grip the small packet and placed it on the sink. Maron would most likely have been very upset if she lost those things she claimed were for her period cramps.

He ran a hand over his face and quickly dried the rest of his body before he slipped into a more professional outfit. He placed his watch upon his wrist comfortably and walked into his bedroom smelling of his Axe body wash. Vegeta gripped his phone, pulling up his text messages. His finger clicked away at the keys and once he was concluded he pressed send, hoping for a reply within the hour.

Vegeta slipped the phone in his pocket and slowly made his way down the hallway and to the winding stair case. The smell of cooking sausage and bacon caused his mouth to immediately salivate. As he got closer to the kitchen his senses went wild along with the sound of his stomach protesting.

Maron heard her husband approach and shot an agitated glance over her shoulder, which she followed by sticking up her nose.

"You made her make breakfast? What happened to you making the breakfast? I didn't think it was that hard of a task." He said gruffly.

Her blue eyes flared with anger and a pinch of embarrassment was visible, "I was not happy enough to make breakfast, plus you don't seem too eager to have me around anyway, so why would I make you breakfast?" Maron flipped her manicured hands in the air.

Vegeta's nostrils flared, growing angry with her childish behavior, "On a different note, I found your woman pills in the trash; I think a thank you would be enough." He raised a dark eyebrow, knowing full well it would drive this particular woman insane.

"I know…" she sighed softly and wiped her tear filled eyes, looking toward him with a quivering lower lip.

Vegeta pause and gripped a greasy piece of sausage between his fingers, "What do you mean, I know?" he took a bite, turning to lean against the counter top.

"Well, now that I am back I was hoping we could talk about another matter. I mean we are married now." Maron's voice quivered.

The Ouji Corporation heir's eyes narrowed as he slowed his chews, "Explain…" he nodded toward her emotionless as always.

"Well along with cooking you breakfast and what not, I was planning on telling you how I plan on taking a long break from modeling. I mean at least a couple years. You make plenty of money and I don't think we would hurt in the least bit if I took a couple years off." She toyed with the huge rock on her wedding finger, letting her eyes roam nervously.

"Maron, get to the point. Don't tell me…" he swallowed hard and leaned forward, feeling the blood draining from his face.

"Well, I was hoping we could start a family. You know how your father has been bugging you." Maron forced a smile on her lips.

Vegeta gasped and began to choke on a piece of the sausage, trying desperately to clear his airway.

Maron gasped and rushed to his side, "Sweetie, are you alright?" she rubbed his back.

Oh fuck no…

ooOoo

Bulma gripped her large Louis Vuitton bag, pulling it up and over her shoulder as she stepped into her office and flipped on the lights. She pulled her mid-thigh length white shorts down a tad, which her white belt offered her enough room to slide them down. She straightened her violet ruffle blouse that came down in a tasteful V shape. Her necklace sparkled as the light hit her approaching form. She set her bag down next to her desk and flipped open her laptop, preparing to send more documents for the fundraiser.

Her phone had been chiming in the pocket within her bag, and no matter how much she wanted to check who it was she couldn't, for the moment she stepping into the office everyone had questions for her. She was swamped. Now that her door was closed she had a brief moment to herself. Bulma pulled the blackberry free. Her eyes lit up as her scanned over the digits that were flashing on her screen. He had sent her a text message. She was shocked, but glad all at the same time. For a brief moment she felt slightly ashamed by her giddy childish behavior, as if she were a young teenager once again. She truly needed to get ahold of herself.

"Bulma relax, you're a woman." She coached herself as she pulled up the text message.

Taking in a deep breath, she opened her slightly closed eyes and read the letters on her screen.

I need to see u, woman…tonight…don't keep me waiting 4 an answer…

She placed her thumb nail between her teeth and bit down nervously. Bulma felt heat pool between her slightly parted thighs just thinking about the possibility of them meeting up for a pleasure filled evening. She didn't know how she could possibly make it work. She was supposed to meet her fiancé. Dinner wouldn't last that long, would it?

He would understand if she told him that she couldn't stay out late because of the fundraiser, right? Gosh, she didn't care anymore. She would go to dinner and get herself out of being with him that night. Bulma was determined to see Mr. Ouji once again.

Bulma gripped her blackberry and began to type back to him quickly. She was determined to see this man. She had to see him.

The blue haired woman pressed send and placed the phone upon her desk, smiling softly as she bit her lower lip. Her hand shifted to her loose locks of hair, tussling it softly as she allowed her mind to wander.

ooOoo

Later that evening after the work day was over; Bulma went home to quickly freshen up. It was nearly seven thirty and Yamcha had been text messaging her for the past forty minutes. She honestly contemplated chucking it out her open window as she drove home. Finally getting some peace and quiet, she left down her hair completely and dressed into something a bit more stylish for their fancy dinner.

She had texted her fiancé back, letting him know she would meet him at the restaurant. He of course had already made reservations for them, so she didn't need to worry too much on rushing herself. Then again she knew he would be even more furious if he was seated at an empty table waiting for her to show. Even though she would love to just ditch him all together, even she couldn't do that to him.

Bulma arrived in a simple, yet classy acorn colored dress with a beautiful pattern with light and dark browns mixed in. It stopped just above the knee with the sleeves splitting over her slim arms. Her waist was adorned with a slim brown sash, which showed off her slim waistline. Her steps were careful, yet casual as she walked into the restaurant allowing her eyes to scan the guests. Her curled blue hair bounced with each movement. Her hand slipped up nervously to clutch her beautiful beaded necklace, which came down to her accented breast. She allowed her eyes to lower to her planted feet as she paused near the door. The Louis Vuitton pumps upon her feet allowed her perfectly manicured toes to be slightly visible, accented her classy dress. She reached down and pulled the strap covering her heel upward, caressing over the light brown suede fabric of the pump.

Lifting her body back up slowly she saw a hand waving her over and without another word she slowly made her way toward the table, being bombarded by three servers on her way. Yamcha intercepted her by gripped her hand in his and leading her to a table. Bulma offered a slight smile, still unsure how to react to his proximity.

"Wow, you look amazing, my love." Yamcha allowed his dark eyes to shift over her slim figure.

Bulma had to admit she didn't mean to dress this nice at the beginning when the dinner date was planned, but if she was going somewhere after then she sure as hell would dress to impress, especially in Vegeta's presence.

"Thank you, I had yet to wear this thing. It was in my closet with the price tag still on it. I figured it would be the perfect time to wear it." She chuckled softly as she took a seat and tucked some of her silky hair behind her ear.

"Well, I am glad you wore it. You look absolutely stunning. I can't wait to get you home." Yamcha whispered in a desire filled tone, leaning in to offer her a grin.

Bulma forced a smile upon her lips, "Oh, you wanted me to come over after this?" she asked as she toyed with the necklace once again. Her knee was moving a million miles a minute.

Come on Bulma you can get out of this…

"Um, well since we haven't spent much time together I figured so, why? Don't tell me you have plans…" Yamcha lifted a hand and ran it over his perfectly combed hair, careful not to mess it up.

"Well…" Bulma's eyes shifted away nervously, trying her hardest not to make this anymore awkward then it already seemed to be.

"Damn it Bulma…don't tell me it has to do with more fundraiser stuff? I just spoke with your father and he told me you already finished all your requirements." His hand lifted, motioning for a waiter.

"Yamcha, there is more to it. I have to practice what I am going to say, not to mention there are some finishing touches I need to put on the agreements and such. We will have our time after alright?" she smiled softly, shifting her body in her plush seat and watching the man approach their table.

Bulma ordered herself a glass of wine, while Yamcha ordered a Martini. The waiter disappeared, leaving the couple alone to more awkward silence.

"You promise you will have time for me after this…this fundraiser?" he let a frustrated breath of air escape his nostrils.

"Yes, I…I promise," Bulma lied through her teeth and reached out to collect the newly filled wine glass that was placed in front of her. She took a large drink and placed a hand on her chest, lifting her glass to her fiancé.

Yamcha just nodded, saying nothing more. She could tell he was completely bothered and no matter what she said right now it would not change anything. She had ruined dinner, but as sad as it sounded, she was glad. The quicker she got out of the restaurant the better.

They finished their dinner in silence, with a couple brief amounts of small talk.

How was your day?

Good.

I'm glad.

It was terrible and after her second glass of wine, along with a satisfying meal she was prepared to leave. The only problem was slipping out to tell Vegeta she was ready to meet.

"I'm going to use the little girl's room. I will be back, Hun." Bulma tossed a pet name in there to be kind, which he only nodded, avoiding eye contact.

Bulma gripped her bag and slipped to the bathroom in the restaurant. She hurried into a private area and pulled out her phone, flipping through her messages to see he had yet to respond to her message from hours before.

Damn…

Bulma used both thumbs and typed a quick message to him, testing to see if he was available.

Place?

The blue haired woman sat patiently, casually looking under the bathroom stall when she would hear loud voices. She honestly hoped Yamcha wouldn't get curious and follow her to the bathroom. She needed a message back before she could go sit back down. She needed to know.

After 6 minutes there was still no response to her text and she grew even more worried. Not to mention she was irritated. That man had gotten her hopes up for a meeting and still he did not answer. Bulma really hoped he was alright.

Finally, she slipped the phone back into her purse and slowly exited the stall. She fixed her hair and powered her nose. Her hands skimmed over the outfit she had picked out for him, and sighed softly.

It was only 8:50, the night was still young. Bulma knew there was still time for him to respond, or so she hoped.

The heiress made her way back to the table where Yamcha sat checking e-mails from clients via cellphone, only lifting his eyes momentarily to watch her sit back in her chair.

"You alright?" he asked finally, keeping his eyes on his phone's screen.

"Oh yes, just applying some make-up and used the restroom. You know…" Bulma sighed and placed her small purse upon the tabletop, reaching out to grip her wine glass once again.

She was going to need a whole bottle to calm down. Damn that man for making her this anxious.

"Well, I am done with dinner. Shall we just part ways and see each other in two days when we meet at the fundraiser?" He lifted a hand and kept eye contact with her this time.

"You are coming to the fundraiser?" Bulma cocked a blue eyebrow.

"Yes, your father invited me. He wanted to show me the ropes." He grinned finally after the past twenty minutes of awkwardness.

"Oh, I see. Well then I will see you in two days." She nodded and stood only to have him grip her hand in his and walk her to the exit.

"I really wish we had a better night," he spoke to her before placing a soft kiss upon her cheek.

Bulma allowed her eyes to flutter closed a brief moment before pulled her hand from his grasp, "Me too. I am sorry I haven't been myself lately. Like I said, stress." She smiled and hesitantly leaned in to brush a soft kiss upon his lips, "Thank you Yamcha, I will see you soon."

"I love you, Bulma," he replied, only to have her shoot him a smile over her shoulder as she walked to her own car.

ooOoo

Bulma arrived home and slipped out of her pumps, which by that time her feet were aching. She got on a pair of pajama shorts and a t-shirt. Her whole body ached and instantly she allowed her body to sink onto her bed, which her eyes fluttered closed.

Why hadn't he called?

Bulma wasn't sure, but she was completely taken back. The guy sent her flowers, sent her a desperate text message, and now he wasn't responding? It worried her.

This affair was taking over her every thought. She was too wrapped up in it, which she would have laughed if someone told her this would have happened to her just a few months back.

She was stupid to think he would stay interested after fucking her after all those years. Maybe it was just a bet to see if she actually would sleep with him. No, Vegeta wasn't like that, was he?

Her phone began to vibrate in her purse. Bulma flung her body up from her laying position and scrambled to collect her phone.

There was a text message from him. Bulma's eyes widened and her heart began to pound in her chest. She swallowed hard and allowed her eyes to scan the message.

Not tonight. Wife's home…

Bulma's heart sunk in her chest as she lowered her body to the floor, crossing them tightly. His wife was home now? That is why he hadn't responded. She was old news apparently. She was no longer needed now that his 'hot' wife was back into town and he could get what he needed from her.

She wiped a hand over her mouth and bit her lower lip, forcing the angry tears from falling from her eyes. The jealous burned like acid in her belly just thinking about that woman, and her hands covering his body and her body giving pleasure to him. It wasn't fair. Why did her life have to be so damn complicated?

Bulma threw her body back on the bed and tossed her phone to the floor, unable to respond to him. She cried herself to sleep, angry that this relationship had to be so secretive, angry that the man she loved had to be married. Why couldn't she just rewind time?

ooOoo

Mallie-3
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I'll Remember