𝑇𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑃ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑥 ✔︎ || 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑑

26

~ phoenix ~

In that moment, when my arms wrapped tightly around him, I forget that he left. His touch washed away the anger, the sadness— it was all gone. Pressing my face against his chest, I waited for him to return the embrace.

Instead, he stepped away, detaching my arms from him. With bloodshot eyes, Ilya glanced away, staggering backwards.

Shocked, I reached for him again, but he flinched and in his efforts to get away from me, his leg caught a stool. He tumbled to the ground. The stool clattered to the tiles with him, with a loud crash.

Startled, I shot forward, arms outstretched.

"NO!" Ilya bellowed, hoarsely. The pain rang clearly in the air between us.

I froze.

Shakily, he rose to his feet again. He never met my eyes once.

"Ilya..." I begged, quietly, "it's me."

Clutching his temples, he tried to move past me. I grabbed his arm.

Holding back the tears, I glared. "Ilya! Stop this—"

Ripping my hand off, he pushed me back against the bar, until the mahogany was pressing painfully into my back. I winced, holding his glazed stare.

"Don't," he growled, gutturally, "fucking touch me."

I held my breath until he suddenly jerked back. I didn't miss the disgust in his grimace.

Unable to hold it anymore, I stood helplessly while the tears spilled over. Did he hate me?

He began to walk away, towards the door.

"Ancora?" the bartender cried behind me. [Again?]

Hurriedly, I unclasped the silver bracelet from around my wrist. I tossed it at the thin man before following my husband out.

"Ilya!" I called, storming after him.

He strode towards Vik and the SUV. But before he could open the door of the driver's side, I slipped in between.

Warily, the guard stepped a few feet back.

Ilya glared down at me, the granite in his eyes smouldering. I matched the rage with my own.

"Why are you doing this?" I demanded, chocking on thick emotion. "B-because I'm fucking pregnant?"

Unexpectedly, a loud snarl ripped out of his throat: "Yes! Yes, because you're fucking pregnant!"

I recoiled. But why did his words sting so bad even when I knew the truth?

"Fuck you," I seethed, eventually, "you fucking coward—"

Once again, my back was slammed against a hard surface. This time, however, I couldn't stand it.

I shoved him away from me, spitting with fury.

"I will have this child, you bastard!" I screamed at him.

His features contorted with rage. I trembled with both fear and anger.