Prince from Paradise | ✔

XXVI. Abandoned at Nightfall

Adar 

His family ushered his wife and him away from the crowd as the the yelling and shouts increased in volume. Adar's father had enough decency to steer away from the chaos, and they stared wide-eyed at their son's declaration, fear and confusion swirling around their eyes until all the bark was stripped to showcase the burning rage that flooded them. 

After being pushed, dragged, and abused back into his home, he clutched his wife's waist, pulling her shivering body close to his, knowing that he'd denounce all titles if only he could protect her from the wrath they would soon face. 

Not even Rabiya's family could enter through closed doors, not when her aunts still had injuries to be treated. Even while knowing this would be the moment his parents disowned him, a small part of him still wished for the affectionate gaze of his father, for the warmth of his mother's touch, for the acceptance from his sisters. The tear between them was vast, ripping further and further until they were strangers. 

A family of strangers. 

His wife shifted in his arms, and he focused his attention back on her, catching her solemn gaze. She was tired and exhausted, too lost in their uncertain future and the never ending list of demands that came, the mountain of stress they struggled to climb over. 

Adar looked back at his parents, his father's eyes narrowed, his expression colder than a northern winter, an icy glacier knocking the air from his lungs at the constricting pain. A chill ran down his spine that even his wife couldn't cure. 

"You married her," his father said, shadows looming across his features. "You went against my wishes and married her." 

"I did."

From the corner of his eyes, he saw his sisters' flinch at his voice, the admittance of what they considered a sin. 

"For what?" his father bellowed. "To betray your family? Is a woman more important than the love of your parents or did you find such pleasure in disobedience that you married our enemy?" His lips were pulled back in a snarl, a rabid dog too engrossed in thoughts of greed to see the pain etched across his child's visage. No, he was worse than a dog. 

"She is my wife."

He hissed, stepping forward with a puffed chest of arrogance. "And you still call this woman a wife. Did I not make myself clear?" His voice was rough, a growling undertone to the burst of fury that seeped between tense words. 

Adar pushed Rabiya behind him, not liking the underlying threat his father implied. "I tried for years to gain your approval," spoke Adar in volumes that matched his own anger and misery. "Everything I accomplished, everything that I've done to keep this family afloat from the money of menial tasks to traveling far for my education, and still it was never enough. I was never enough for you as a son."

"Watch your tone."

"Why should I?" he fought back. "Why should I when you dragged me back into this horrid place with a threat? You hurt Rabiya's family over and over again, rob them of their inheritance, and you abuse them as you abused your own son."

"I raised you to be the man you are!" his father bellowed with nostrils flared, another step forward. "And instead of gratitude, you go off to marry her."

"Stop."

"Tell me, Adar, how will you claim to be a righteous man when you eloped? Does it feel nice to be a sinner after all these years of falsely portraying a path of virtue?"

Adar's fists clenched at his sides at the accusations thrown at him, his father belittling his integrity and humiliating him. Even after all he endured, all the beatings, all the snide remarks, his father still had no limits to his cruelty.