Page 21 of Thorns of Lust
Heowedme an explanation.
“Why not?” I demanded. “We’re married. You could at least provide me with an explanation, Adrian. I’m going to be twenty-seven soon. You never claimed not to want children when we married.”
His answer was swift. “You never asked.”
“Because I assumed–”
“That’s right,” he interrupted. “You assumed.”
I never asked him specifically, but I assumed he loved kids. He was good with Vasili’s kids.
“Explain to me why,” I demanded. My temper simmered under my skin; I could feel it and tried my best to keep it contained. I felt robbed. Of the future I dreamed of. Of the family I wanted.
“Illegitimate kids are not a desirable thing.”
My brows furrowed at the stupid explanation. “We are married,” I snapped. “What do you mean by illegitimate kids? I don’t care if the baby is blue, green, or illegitimate. It will be ours. We don’t live in the medieval age.”
“No,” he snapped. “No matter what you say, the answer will be no. No children. Our world is not meant for children.”
“You are barely even in that world, Adrian,” I screamed. “You run a successful security company. We have more than enough to provide for a family. Even if you quit, I have enough money of my own to–”
“You have your brothers’ money, not your own.”
“It is in my name.” The anger inside me boiled over. “So it’s my money. There is something you’re not telling me, and I want to know what.” My ears rang from the adrenaline rushing through my veins. The anger blinded me. It was as if I was a raging maniac. I reached for the nearby vase and threw it through the air. Adrian ducked down just in time to miss it hitting him. It crashed against the wall, shattering all over the floor.
He turned around to see all the broken pieces all over the hardwood. Then he returned his eyes to me and shook his head.
“Mistake,” he muttered. He might as well have stabbed me right in my heart. “This was such a fucking mistake.”
My stomach tied into a knot. Pain sliced through me and the words etched themselves into my soul. You couldn’t take something like that back. Anger bubbled inside me, inflating until I felt like it would burst violently.
Instead, I reached for the first item next to me and threw it across the room. Our wedding, or rather elopement, photo stared back at me, shattered; pieces of glass scattered across the floor.
Without another word, he walked away from me, the door to our penthouse slamming so hard, it shook the entire apartment.
And another vase fell off the table, broken pieces scattering over the cedar planks. Moonlight reflected in the shattered glass, like raindrops against crystal. Kind of like my heart.
I watched them, frozen, as a tear splattered against the hardwood. A single dark drop, slowly expanding. Like this feeling in my chest. Except, I didn’t recognize it. I had never felt it before. It felt awfully close to hate.
I didn’t like it. I wanted to erase it. Leaving all the mess where it was, my steps moved towards the back of the penthouse where our bedroom was. I stripped my clothes off, leaving me in a bra and panties, then crawled into the bed.
I’d sleep off the ugly feeling. It was best to sleep it off and start anew.
Closing my eyes, I focused on the buzzing of Adrian’s gadget. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Until my heavy eyelids shut and dreams pulled me under.
Only to be startled in the darkness of the room. There was someone here. The squeak of the hardwood. My heart thundered, cracking my ribs.
My eyes shot open. A hand closed over my mouth, cutting off the air to my lungs.
I frantically searched his face. My husband’s eyes.
Dark. Resentful. Furious.
“This isn’t you.” My muffled voice didn’t register. This face wasn’t my husband’s. But it looked like his face.
It was the beginning of our end.
