Page 53 of Plus-Size Bratva Bride

As I reached for the front door, I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror.

"You're doing the right thing," I told my reflection, trying to ignore the doubt gnawing at my insides. "He'll forget about you in a week. It's better this way."

Yet even as I walked away from Abe's house, my broken heart already aching for him, a small voice in the back of my mind whispered, "What if you're wrong?"

I got into the waiting cab, unable to stop myself from glancing back at the imposing house. Through the large bay window, I caught a glimpse of Abe. His towering figure stood motionless, his broad shoulders slumped in a way I'd never seen before. The sight of him looking so…defeatedmade my chest tighten.

"Dammit, Abe," I whispered, my voice catching. "Why couldn't this have been easier?

As if he'd heard me, Abe's head snapped up, his piercing blue-gray eyes locking with mine. Even from this distance, I could see the storm of emotions raging within them. Anger, confusion, and fear.

I watched as he lifted a hand, pressing it against the glass. The gesture was so uncharacteristically vulnerable that it made my breath catch. For a moment, I could almost imagine the warmth of his touch, the feeling of safety I'd come to associate with his presence.

But then his expression hardened. He turned away abruptly, disappearing from view.

Chapter 20 - Abe

I paced my room like a caged animal, my phone clutched in my hand. I dialed Pippa's number for the dozenth time. The call went unanswered, yet again.

"Damn it, Pippa. Pick up," I growled. When she didn’t, I threw the phone on the couch.

Minutes later, my eyes darted to the screen, hoping for a miracle—a missed call, a text, anything. But there was nothing. Just like the void she'd left in my chest when she'd walked away.

Why the hell didn't I stop her? I was too shocked, too confused. I didn’t know what to say. I was afraid of saying the wrong thing and making it worse and so I chose silence.Stupid, stupid me.I should have run down, thrown myself in front of the car, and truly told her how I felt. I should have stopped the guards from letting her leave until she understood she had this all wrong.The scenarios gnawed at me, twisting my gut into knots. I'd let her slip through my fingers, and now… now she was gone.

"Fuck this," I muttered, grabbing my keys.

The drive to Pippa's apartment was a blur of neon lights and honking horns. My knuckles were white on the steering wheel as I weaved through traffic, my mind racing faster than the car.

What would I say when I saw her? The words tumbled through my head: I'm sorry. I was an idiot. Please give me another chance. But none of them seemed right. None of them could capture the desperation clawing at my chest.

As I pulled up to her building, a new determination settled over me. I'd make her listen. I'd make her understand.Because the thought of losing her—of never seeing those gorgeous eyes flash with anger or soften with laughter—was more than I could bear.

I took the elevator up to her floor, my heart pounding. This was it. No more games. No more walls. Just us, face to face, with everything laid bare.

My fist raised, ready to knock, when a chilling thought stopped me cold. What if she wasn't there? What if she'd already decided I wasn't worth the trouble?

"No," I growled, pushing the doubt aside. "She has to be here. She has to listen."

I knocked, the sound echoing in the empty hallway. And I waited, praying to a God I'd long since stopped believing in that she'd open the door.

I knocked again, harder this time, my knuckles stinging against the wood. Silence. The kind of silence that feels like a punch to the gut.

"Pippa?" I called out, my voice rough with tension. "It's Abe. We need to talk."

Nothing. Not even the faintest sound of movement from inside. A cold dread started to seep into my bones.

I tried the handle, finding it unlocked. The door swung open to reveal… emptiness. The apartment was bare, stripped of all personality. No cushions or photo frames. No stacks of papers on the coffee table. No sign of Pippa at all.

"Fuck," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

I stalked through the vacant rooms as if I could conjure her presence by sheer force of will. But the truth was undeniable. She was gone. Moved out without a word, without a trace.

The realization hit me like a physical blow. I'd screwed up. I'd pushed her away, and now she was slipping through my fingers like smoke.

***

The next morning, I drove to the casino in a daze, my mind churning with possibilities. I hadn’t slept well all night. Where could she have gone? Why hadn't she told me she was going to move out of her own place?

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