The Bound Princess (Dark Romance)

Chapter 68

Emma

The car ride from the hospital was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the quiet hum of the engine. Dawood sat beside me, his hand gently resting on mine, but I could feel the tension radiating from him. He had insisted on accompanying me, refusing to let Ahmed drive me home.

I glanced at Dawood out of the corner of my eye. His expression was a mixture of worry and exhaustion, the lines of stress etched deeply into his face. He hadn’t left my side since he returned from New York, and his presence was a constant reminder of the life we were still entangled in.

As the city lights blurred past the window, my mind raced with everything that had happened. The revelations, the emotions, and the decision I had to face—one that would change everything.

When the car finally pulled up to Dawood’s penthouse, he quickly got out, coming around to open the door for me. His hand was warm as it helped me out, but I felt a coldness in my chest that had nothing to do with the weather. We walked into the building in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between us.

Inside the penthouse, the familiar surroundings only intensified the turmoil inside me. It had once been a place where I felt safe, loved—even happy. But now, all I felt was a suffocating pressure, a sense that everything was falling apart.

Dawood led me to the living room, gently guiding me to sit on the couch. He sat down beside me, his eyes searching mine as if trying to gauge what I was thinking. I could see the fear in his gaze, the desperation to hold on to what we had.

"Are you feeling better now?" Dawood asked, "Or would you like to get some rest? I have ordered your favorite Turkish food; you can get some sleep after eating."

“I’m fine, Dawood,” I replied quietly, my voice steady but lacking warmth. “But there’s something we need to talk about.”

His expression tensed, the fear in his eyes deepening. “What is it? Whatever it is, we can work through it. Just talk to me.”

I took a deep breath, feeling my hands tremble slightly as I prepared to say the words that would change everything. “Dawood, I’ve been thinking…about us, about our marriage. And I think…it’s best if we separate.”

The moment the words left my mouth, Dawood’s face drained of color. He looked at me as if I had just shattered his world, his eyes wide with disbelief. “No…Emma, no. I can't even imagine a life without you or our baby.”

“You didn't even want this child. You asked me to abort it,” I said, my voice breaking slightly.

I could never forget the moment when he asked me to abort our baby because he didn't trust me not to turn out like his mother and try to hurt our child. I couldn't forget how often I tried to assure him of my love and loyalty towards him and how he still didn't believe me.

"I am sorry for even suggesting something like that. I can't tell you how ashamed I am of myself. I wasn't thinking straight. My rage and past blinded me, but now everything is clear. I was an idiot not to trust you," Dawood admitted.

"What is the guarantee you won't doubt me in the future? Your past won't change, Dawood, and neither will you. I can’t keep doing this. We’re hurting each other, and I’m scared. I’m scared for our child, for what kind of life we’ll bring them into if we stay together like this.”

If Hamza hadn't gotten caught and his plan hadn't been exposed, Dawood would have kept doubting me forever. I looked past all his mistakes and let slide all the instances where he hurt me, but I could never forgive him for asking me to abort our baby.

How could a father want to kill their unborn child? How could he let his hate for his mother cloud his judgment to the extent that he was willing to murder his child?

Dawood’s hands reached out, grabbing mine tightly as if holding on for dear life. “Princess, please…don’t do this. Please don’t leave me. I know I’ve made mistakes, but I swear I’ll change. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work—give me a chance.”

He moved off the couch, kneeling in front of me, his eyes filled with tears. “Please, sweetheart…please. I can’t lose you. I love you more than anything, and I know I’ve hurt you, but I promise I’ll fix this—I’ll do whatever you need me to do. Just don’t give up on us.”

I felt a lump form in my throat, my resolve wavering as I looked down at him. Seeing Dawood on his knees, pleading with me, broke something inside me. I loved him—there was no denying that. But could love alone mend what was broken?

"Dawood," my voice was thick with emotion, "I do love you, but love isn’t enough. We’re stuck in this cycle of hurting each other, and I can’t keep doing this—not to us, and especially not to our child. You said I won't be a good mother to our child, but what kind of father are you who wants to murder their child even before it gets the chance to come into this world? You didn't even think once of how the news of you getting shot would affect me and, in turn, our child? How can you even expect me to stay with you after everything you said and did?"

He squeezed my hands tighter, his eyes shining with tears. "I am sorry. I am so sorry; if I can go back in time, I will change everything I did to hurt you. Princess, please—I’ll go to therapy, I’ll deal with my past, I’ll do whatever it takes to be the man you need me to be. Just give me a chance to prove myself. For our baby’s sake, for our future…please don’t leave."

His words tore at me, making it nearly impossible to breathe. Dawood never agreed to therapy, even after Mehmet Ordimez insisted so many times. That Dawood suggested going to therapy alone was proof of how much he wanted to save our marriage. Every part of me wanted to believe him, to hold onto the hope that we could rebuild what we had. But the fear—the fear of bringing a child into a marriage so fraught with pain—held me back.

"I’m so sorry, Dawood," I whispered, tears slipping down my cheeks. "But I’m not strong enough to trust that things will change. I can’t risk our child growing up in a home filled with tension and unresolved issues. I can’t…"

"Please," Dawood’s voice was a broken whisper as he rested his forehead against our joined hands. "I know I’ve let you down; I have done many unforgivable things, but I swear I’ll change. Just give me the chance to make things right. Don’t take our family away from me."

I knelt before him, our eyes level, and I could see the raw anguish in his expression. My heart shattered as I reached up to wipe away his tears, my own emotions spilling over.

"I wish I could, Dawood. I wish I could believe that everything will be okay. But I’m scared—scared that we’ll fall back into the same patterns, that our child will suffer because of our mistakes."

"I’ll do anything," he repeated, his voice hoarse. "I’ll go to therapy, I’ll confront my demons—I’ll even step away if that’s what you need to feel safe. Just…don’t end us like this."

I closed my eyes, feeling the pull between my love for him and the need to protect our child. "I want to believe you, Dawood. I really do. But right now…I just can’t."

He looked devastated, his eyes searching mine for any sign of hope. But when he found none, his shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him as he realized how firm I was in my decision.

"I understand," he finally whispered, his voice hollow. "But please, Princess…if you ever feel that we can try again, if you ever want to rebuild this—I'll be here. I’ll wait for you."

I nodded, my heart breaking as I slowly stood up. "I need some time, Dawood. Maybe one day…but right now, I need to do what’s best for me and our child."

As I turned to leave, Dawood stayed on his knees, his eyes following me until I disappeared down the hall. The silence that followed was deafening, and with every step, I felt the weight of my choice crushing me.

I loved him—more than words could express—but sometimes, love isn’t enough to heal wounds that run so deep.