Page 71 of Forced By the Obsessed Bratva
One I remembered forever.
One I’d share with someone—with him.
Instead, all I had was an envelope and an emptiness that no amount of walking could ease.
My stomach tightened. Not with nausea but with the grief that still trailed after me like a second shadow.
I missed him.
God, I hated it, but I missed him, even now.
Even after everything.
I spotted a small café near the roadside. The windows were misted up; there were some strands of dim, yellow lights over the windows. A hand-painted “OPEN” sign dangled from the door, swinging a bit.
Making my way inside the café, I moaned as the smell of burnt coffee and croissants invaded my nose. A buzz of conversation hummed softly beneath a tune on an old speaker.
I slid into the last booth in the corner, against the wall, and scanned through the menu more out of habit than hunger.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten properly.
A waitress came over to take my order, chewing gum like it was the only thing keeping her alert throughout the day.
I ordered toast and hot chocolate.
After writing down my order, she smiled at me. “Your food will be ready in ten minutes.”
Nodding in approval, I exhaled and leaned back into the booth, allowing myself to feel how bone-tired I was.
And for five minutes maybe, it was possible to simply be.
But the peace didn’t last very long as an older man entered the café. He was forty at most, greasy hair, denim jacket, and the kind of smirk that made my skin crawl before he’d even opened his mouth.
“Well, hey there, sweetheart.”
“Hey,” I replied, just to be polite. Then I shifted my gaze to the flowerpot by the window.
“Didn’t mean to scare you. I just figured a pretty thing like you wouldn’t be eating alone.”
I didn’t look up. “Thanks for your concern, but I do enjoy eating alone.”
“C’mon, don’t be that way. I’ll even pay for your tea. That a baby bump beneath that coat, or you hiding curves?”
His grin broadened like he was attempting to be attractive but failing miserably at it. All he did was make me want to wince in disgust.
I tensed, fists forming beneath the table. I did not wish to make a scene, but I had so much on my mind and I just wanted to be left alone.
“Animal,” I said to him, shooting a glare at him before looking away.
He just laughed. “Feisty, huh? You look like you could use a little company. Might even be fun.” His hand reached across the table, fingers closing around my wrist.
Something inside me snapped.
In one smooth motion, I twisted my arm, grasped his fingers, and shoved him backward with a force I didn’t know I was even capable of.
He crashed onto the edge of his seat with a grunt, his eyes wide as if he had no clue how he’d ended up on the floor.
I stood up slowly, towering over him.
