"You don't want me..." I breathed, selfishly leaning into his touch. But I quickly pull away.
"I'm different and so not your type," I muttered, looking everywhere else but at him. He frowns slightly, eyes simmering.
"God, Anna." He exhaled, cool bre...
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Hi, so there's a trigger warning it his chapter. just a heads up.
please by any means skip the rest of this chapter if you're uncomfortable, your mental health is very important to me.
okay, bye!
<3
ANNA
Previously,
"I don't think that the bastard she's carrying is mine, mother."
|*****|
My lips parted with a gasp. and the sound of a hand connecting to a cheek echoed throughout the room. I don't know how or when but before I could stop myself. my hand had already collided with his cheek, his head snapping to the side.
The lump in my throat became hard to swallow. My breath barely coming out. I felt sick. His words make me sick.
My eyelids brim with tears, but I angrily swipe them away.
when did I get here; standing before him. We never resolved to violence.
Anna.
The disgust that dripped from his words didn't go unnoticed. I unconsciously placed my hand over my belly, as if that would soothe my aching heart. Nausea hits me out of nowhere and I just want to crawl into a hole and die.
I know what it feels like to not be cared for by a parent, even though they were very capable. Even though they are present, the distance between us- far from reach.
"don't say that." I mumbled, wincing at the pain in my own voice. I turn my focus to the floor. trying to keep the tears from falling. I can't look at him. I wasn't supposed to let my anger get the best of me. I can feel his eyes on me, but I'm scared to look up and find out what's in them. Screw it, I look up anyway, meeting his gaze. For the sake of the muscle in my chest. For the sake of my sanity. The sting in my bones. I searched; trying to find something to convince myself that I didn't hear him right. that he didn't mean it...to call our child Un fathered.
but Michaels eyes. they said it all, he intended it.
No, it's got to be an act. He's hiding something.
No. He wanted those words to incite the very best throb it could offer. and they did.
"It hurts doesn't it" he chuckled, closing the space between us. I stumble back in surprise. This man before me. This bitter being before me is not my husband. Taking delight in another's pain is not who he is. That's the man his father was and he swore to never become that man.
"Michael..." I whisper. I can't breathe. My chest hurts, his words hurt.
Now he has me, where he wanted me. And this time not my brother nor his mother prevented it. I am a strong woman. but i still wanted to shrink back and hide. The ripples of fury and furor rolling of him is maddening.
