Page 12 of The Pakhan's Kidnapped Bride
It broke me just as much as it broke him when I had to walk away.
I didn’t have a choice, and I couldn’t even tell him that.
I loved Emmanuil from the moment I saw him. Everything about him was like a magnet to me. A bright light, and I was a moth drawn to the flame. I knew it was wrong. I knew our families had a history, long-standing rivalries. I knew it was dangerous.
But how could I resist him?
Never in my life had I felt something so intense before. He was older than me, dark and divine and tempting. He made it clear he wanted me, and I had no intention of turning him down. I never even tried.
And I fell for him faster than my reason allowed.
It was beautiful, our secret love, those moments we spent together lost in each other. When we were together, nothing elseexisted. The rest of the world wasn’t even real. It was him and it was me. We had each other, and I knew in my heart it was all I would ever need.
I knew, even then, that the kind of love we’d found in each other was the rarest in the universe, and I should never let it go.
But life had other plans.
And I had no choice.
I swear, if I had, if there had been any other way, I would have taken it.
It broke me down to nothing when I had to leave him. It broke me so deeply that I couldn’t even face him to say the words myself. For weeks, I didn’t get out of bed. I cried, in secret, hiding my pain from the world, hiding myself from him, and asked my brother to deliver the message.
Over and over again, I questioned myself, searched for another option, but I knew it wasn’t worth the risk.
And over and over again, I asked my brother to ensure that Emmanuil gave up on me.
I let my brother deliver the news without considering how that would impact Emmanuil’s view of him, and his hatred of my brother grew uncontrollably. Their already tense rivalry became more dangerous, and clearly, Emmanuil is still harboring that anger towards Kristopher, to the point where my choices in the past have put Georgie in danger now.
I hope he honors our deal, despite calling me a liar straight afterwards. I hope he leaves her alone. I just have to do my part to honor it, too.
I’ve never forgiven myself for how I handled things in the past. Despite knowing I made the right choice, I carry the weight of it, the guilt, the pain I caused him—I carry it every day.
Even if I tried to tell Emmanuil the truth now, it’s too late. He’s changed. He’s harder and colder, and he would never believe me. Emmanuil is in full-blown war mode against my brother. He’s had too many years of believing something wrong—and that was my fault.
Hence my guilt.
Over the years, I managed to push it down, but it’s never left.
And seeing him now is resurfacing everything.
It’s becoming raw and painful again, an open wound on my heart, festering, never truly healed.
So he was right, perhaps, in that one thing. My heart is festering. But not in the way he thinks.
I carry the guilt of leaving, but I also carry the same pain he carries—the pain of losing the love of my life. A man I’ve never been able to forget and a love I’ve never been able to get over.
Sighing loudly, I roll off the bed. I can’t lie here all day staring at the ceiling, thinking about the past. It’s done. It’s over. I can’t change it now. Three days I’ve let these thoughts plague me and make me miserable.
Emmanuil hasn’t come to talk to me. He’s pretty much left me alone, which is a relief. I can’t stand the hatred I see in his eyes. The way he despises me. It hurts way too much.
But this morning, I heard the driver call out to Emmanuil to tell him the car would be ready at nine. He’s going out somewhere, and I want to stretch my legs and walk around while he’s gone and there’s no chance of awkwardly bumping into him.
It’s eight thirty now.
I’ll shower, get dressed, and take my time. And by the time I’m finished, the house will be empty.
On the first day here, I explored the bedroom he’d set up for Georgie. It was the bare minimum, and the clothes weren’t my size, as Georgie is fuller and shorter than I am, so all that would fit me were the sweatpants and T-shirts. But by the second day, while I was out in the garden enjoying some quiet sunshine under the watchful eye of the security guards, the housekeeper rearranged the entire closet with new clothes, all in my size.
