Page 70 of The Pakhan's Kidnapped Bride
Have I been wrong this whole time?
Have I misunderstood everything?
“Because you’re mywife,and you belong here with me,” I snap, losing my patience.
Anya yanks her hand free of my grip and shakes her head. “Just because I’m your wife? No other reason?” she says. Her eyes are shining, but not with the usual bright glow that I’ve come to love. They are shining with the threat of tears.
“What other reason do you want?” I demand.
She presses her lips together, obviously not pleased with my answer.
She turns her back on me and storms up the stairs towards her room.
“What are you doing? We aren’t finished talking,” I growl, marching after her, taking the stairs two at a time, right on her heels, refusing to let this go.
She doesn’t answer me, and I follow her into her bedroom, where, to my horror, she pulls a bag from her closet and sets it on her bed with the top unzipped. I stare in disbelief. This can’t be happening. I won’t allow this to happen. She isn’t going to leave me again. Last time she slipped away from me, and I didn’t have a chance to do anything to stop it, but I won’t let it happen again. My heart is raging so fast I feel dizzy with panic.
She goes back to her closet to pull clothing out and starts packing.
“You can’t be serious?” I say in disbelief. “You’repacking? You want to leave rightnow? Tonight?” I have to convince her to stay another day. Another moment. One more chance to fight for her.
“Yes,” she says tightly, not pausing as she shoves clothes into the suitcase in messy bundles, unfolded, unsorted.
She heads back to her closet to get more, and I step in her way, blocking her path, using my body as a shield to stop her escape. I tower over her, demanding her attention.
She huffs and steps around me. Unfazed.
I grab her arm and spin her, pushing her so that her back is against the cupboard, my hands locked onto her arms, pinning her down.
“Let me go, Emmanuil, this has to happen,” she snaps.
“No, it doesn’t. If you think I’m going to allow you to walk out of here, you’re wrong.” I won’t. Why can’t she see how hard I’m fighting for her?
A tear rolls down her cheek, and she bites down hard on her bottom lip.
“I have to,” she mutters weakly.
I grab her face and force her to look at me. “Why? Why do you have to go?”
“I have to go. I can’t stay with you anymore,” she says through her tears.
I can’t stay with you anymore. It’s me she’s trying to escape?
Her words cut into me like a double-edged sword.
She never intended to stay, did she? She was always going to leave me again.This was all fake.
I don’t want her to leave.
The fear fueling my anger suddenly makes sense.
I’ve fallen madly in love with her all over again.
The idea of her leaving has me in a wild, dangerous panic.
Yes, I told her brother I was using her.
I wasangry. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to provoke him. But even when I told him that, I knew it wasn’t true.
