His eyes widened.
“Meera, wait.”
He reached for me, panic clear on his face. I shook my head.
He started crying before I did.
“I’ll marry you,” he said, his voice breaking. “I promise. I’ll do it. Just give me more time.”
I closed my eyes.
That hurt the most. Not because he refused again, but because now the yes was coming out of fear, not love.
“I don’t want you to marry me because you’re scared of losing me,” I whispered. “I want you to want it. To be excited about it. And you’re not. You’re just scared of being alone.”
He didn’t deny it. He couldn’t.
So I made the only choice I could live with.
“I need to leave for a while,” I said.
His face crumpled.
“Please don’t go.”
But I had to.
That night, I packed a bag, shoving clothes into it with shaky hands, stopping every few minutes to steady my breathing. Adrien stood in the hallway, silent, watching me pack the life we had built into a cheap duffel bag.
I didn’t look at him when I walked past. I didn’t look back when I closed the door behind me.
For Complete Cooking STEPS Please Head On Over To Next Page Or Open button (>) and don’t forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.
