𝒯𝒽ℯ ℛ𝒾𝓈ℯ 𝒪𝒻 𝒜 𝒬𝓊ℯℯ𝓃

Chapter |20| A Tragic Fall

Trigger warnings: if you are sensitive to harsh topics or don't wish to proceed then please skip this chapter.

A R A B E L L A ' S P . O . V

"Arabella!" The room was spinning. I heard a blurred commotion in the background and could see multiple hands reaching out to me. I grabbed the closet one, stumbling slightly as I was hauled to my feet.

I grabbed my back, trying to ignore the splintering pain shooting down my entire body. "Baby, fuck I'm so sorry." Hardin's hand was still interlocked with mine, and he cupped my face with the other, forcing me to meet his eyes.

Guilt was pouring out of his eyes, but then I saw Marcellus behind him, the slight tilt of his lips upwards causing a raging inferno to blaze inside me. Shrugging him off, I moved towards Marcellus and slapped him.

The loud cracking noise echoed throughout the room, and the entire room fell silent. I bit back a scream from the sheer force of it that burnt my hand, but smirked in satisfaction once I saw the angry handprint marring his cheek.

"Don't ever touch me again." I seethed, before turning my back on him. Lucky for him, he was far too shocked to respond. "The party is over!" I announced, ignoring the murmur of gossip as I stormed up the stairs.

"Arabella! Arabella wait!" I couldn't stop. My tears were on the verge of breaking free and my back was still in pain from the fall. My head was pounding, my ankles throbbing and the last person I wanted to see right now was my husband.

Pushing open the door to my room, I dismissed the maid who was cleaning the bathroom, and then slumped down on the bed. Cautious footsteps approached me, as though I was a hungry lion and that just pissed me off even more.

"Are you...angry at me?" Was he fucking serious? Of course he is Arabella, men were always clueless.

"Hardin of course I'm fucking angry at you." Slowly I sat up into a seated position so I could glare at him better. "You punched him."

"He hurt you." The red mark in my wrist had already faded, nothing compared to the numerous bruises he would have all over his face in the morning.

"I can take care of myself Hardin. I thought you of all people recognised that I don't need someone to fight in my corner."

"Of course I do but you're my wife." He said it as though that one sentence was an excuse for everything.

"So? It's merely a title, a sign of my faith and love to you but you don't get to just do things for me because of it. I'm my own person Hardin, and I would have been far happier if you took me away from that bastard rather than subject me to watching you fight him." I quickly brushed away an angry tear. "I had to watch him hit you, kick you, cause you pain whilst I could nothing."

"I don't care, I would gladly take a bullet for you because you're mine Arabella." There was that word. Mine. As though I was a possession, a belonging, something that he could control.

I knew Hardin would never attempt to even do that, but in the pain I was suffering from and the pregnancy hormones that tampered with my brain, it's how I saw it.

I slowly walked forward, and jabbed my Pinter finger into his chest, as I glared up into his eyes. "I'm not yours. I belong to myself and myself only, I choose to share myself with you. I choose to be with you. I'm not property and I thought after everything we've been through you recognised that. I love you Hardin but my past will always remain past and it will continue to haunt me, you've never given me a reason to remember it but after tonight...all I can think about is what if? What if I didn't win? What if you didn't love me? Where would be then? I'm sorry but I need some space right now."