Page 112 of near

I shove him away in disgust and take off up the stairs.

Gemma is throwing clothes into a suitcase when I enter the bedroom. She doesn’t even glance my way, focused on gathering her things.

I step in front of her, grasping her shoulders. “Talk to me. Please.”

“Let go of me.” She wrenches out of my grip.

“I’m not letting you run back to him. That bastard doesn’t deserve you.”

“You don’t get to decide what I do! Whether you like it or not.”

I bunch my fists, trying to contain my anger. “So that’s it? You’re going to throw away everything we have over some piece of shit like him?”

Tears stream down her face even as she glares at me. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want you, Elijah. I never did.”

Her words are like a punch to the gut. I grab her arms.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” My voice softens. “I know you don’t really want this. Why do you do this? Is he threatening you with something?” I cup her face in my hands. “Tell me the truth. Forget him. It’s only you and me here now.”

She blinks back tears. She’s… scared. “You know nothing about what I want.”

“I know you love me.”

Something flashes in her eyes before she steels her expression. “You’re wrong.”

“Tell me you don’t love me.”

She hesitates, lower lip trembling.

“Say it!” My grip tightens.

“I... I don’t.”

I release her as if burned. An icy numbness spreads through me.

This isn’t the Gemma I know. The resignation in her eyes.

“Get the hell out.” My tone is cold and hard.

Gemma recoils, her face draining of color. Fuck.

I reach out to her, but she stumbles back, clutching her suitcase like a shield.

Without another word, she flees the room, the door clicking shut behind her with dreadful finality.

What have I done? This wasn’t supposed to happen.

I stand motionless, staring after her long after she’s gone. The pain and anger hit me like a freight train. With a guttural yell, I sweep everything off the dresser in a violent frenzy. I keep destroying anything in my path, lost in the haze of rage and devastation.

When it finally subsides, I’m left panting amidst the wreckage. I lost her. The only woman I’ve ever loved slipped through my fingers. Again. And it’s my damn fault for not protecting her from the start.

I should have ended Oliver sooner.

This is my little gem. My wife.

I pull out my phone.

“Bash.” My voice is hard as steel as I call him. “We need to talk. Now.”

---