Page 42 of The Bratva's Plus-Size Bride

Despite working from home, I was staying on top of things. I was putting in my best work, but apparently, it wasn’t enough.

I asked for an accommodation that I shouldn’t have, and while it didn’t seem like much, it changed everything.

As I cried and cried, unable to move or respond to Norman’s email, I couldn’t help but feel like my dreams were impossibly far away. Like they were completely out of reach by now, and it would be pitiful if I even tried.

It was the one thing I wanted, and while things at home had been much better than before, it still made me feel like I lost it all.

Aching all over with red eyes and puffy cheeks, I eventually pulled myself off the stool and retreated to the living room. I collapsed onto the couch and curled my body in the slightest attempt of self-soothing as my tears continued to fall.

I didn’t know how long I had been there crying, and frankly, I didn’t care. I was stuck in an endless loop of despair, and I had no idea how I could possibly get myself out of it.

Eventually, soft footfalls entered the space, and I realized I never heard the front door open at all. But it didn’t take me long to recognize who they belonged to.

Ben rounded the corner and entered the room, looking around for me as he normally did. He always sought me out first, both to make sure I was alright and to inform me that he was home.

But the typical smile he had for me was replaced with a discontented frown. He looked tense and worn out, but the moment he saw me there on the couch, concern washed over his features.

“Gemma?” he asked, approaching me with urgent steps. He took up the space beside me as I leaned into the backrest. His words were somewhat sharp with a demanding tone, but I knew it wasn’t aimed at me. “What has upset my wife?”

Pulling in a shaken breath, only able to imagine how ridiculous and broken I looked like that, I swallowed harshly to clear the tears from my throat.

“They…they let me go…”

With his brows furrowed, Ben put a gentle hand against my arm and studied me closely. “Who did?”

“Work…” I mumbled, noticing how unlike me my voice sounded. “I found out a bit ago.”

Through my bleary gaze, I could see as his thoughts raced behind his eyes, and he settled on a look of empathy.

“What happened?”

His words were so gentle and caring that I felt like crying all over again, but I did my best to keep my composure long enough to get the words out.

“Norman said that working remotely wasn’t enough…that I was being inflexible with the arrangement,” I managed to say as I wiped at my eyes again. “I don’t have my internship, anyway.”

Ben’s gaze raked over me while I spoke, fluctuating between those different emotions. Anger flickered briefly in his eyes before remorse and guilt took over. He stayed that way for a moment before he reached for me.

His palms glided over my shoulders until he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest. He didn’t say anything but offered himself as an anchor while I tried to navigate the aching in my heart.

I moved against him willingly, in need of that comfort and warmth more than I initially thought. The last of my defenses dropped as my arms snaked around his waist, and I pressed my cheek against his chest.

While I didn’t have tears left at that point, the burning I felt made me wish I still did. Instead, I let out slow, shaky breaths and tried to collect myself again while he surrounded me.

Even if he wasn’t saying anything, I could tell that Ben was thinking to himself. Mulling over what this meant for me.

He knew my internship was everything to me, and he was well aware of how it would affect me if I were to lose out on it. As far as I could tell, he had been under the impression that the remote compromise wouldn’t be an issue. He thought it would both keep me safe from the Ivanovs and allow me to keep my position.

But he was wrong. And I was wrong for believing it, too. For going along with it.

Regardless of how torn up I was over the news, I couldn’t bring myself to be mad at Ben. Given how tightly he held me, and how he hadn't yet found the words to express what he was thinking, he felt just as blindsided.

I knew he meant well, and I knew he didn’t want me to be without my passion.

Still, we sat like that for a while as I soaked up his quiet affection.

Eventually, Ben let go of a decided breath and murmured against my head, “Fuck the paper.”

While that was indeed something I was also thinking at that moment, I couldn’t manage a response. Instead, I took it as a sign to brush Norman and the company as a whole off for doing me wrong.

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