His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace

Nathan's eyes darkened. "Do you think I'm blind, Doris? The day before our wedding, you went to Nightmare Bar, didn't you?"

I paused, my mind reeling as I tried to recall that day. The memory

was faint but still there, lodged in my heart like a shard of glass. I had gone to the bar, yes. But not for the reasons Nathan assumed. That

day, I had gone to find him. To talk. To tell him how much I loved him,

how much I wanted us to be together, to build a future together. But

his coldness had shattered me.

"You?" Nathan's voice from that night echoed in my mind. "You think you're worthy of a life with me?"

I had poured my heart out to him, but his response was nothing short of cruel. "If you want to be my wife, I can make that happen. But remember, that's all you'll ever be-a name and nothing more."

I closed my eyes, the painful memory flooding back. The humiliation, the rejection. After that night, I had gone to the bar, needing to drown out the pain of his words. But now he was throwing that back at me as if it were proof of something sinister.

"Can't you and Sienna go out every night?" I said bitterly, opening my eyes and glaring at him. "I went to the bar because you broke me, Nathan. I needed space, and I needed to feel like myself again after what you said."All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

14:56

His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace

I saw a flicker of something-doubt, perhaps?-cross his face. But it was quickly replaced with anger. "That's not the point, Doris. I know what happened at that bar. Something did happen that night."

I was sitting alone at the bar, staring down at the glass in front of me. The liquid inside shimmered, the amber color inviting me to forget everything for a while. I was about to take another sip, my mind heavy with the weight of everything that had happened, when a man came up from behind me. His presence made my skin crawl even before he opened his mouth.

"Hey there, gorgeous. All alone tonight?" His breath was hot on my neck, and I immediately felt uncomfortable.

I tried to ignore him, shifting slightly in my seat, but he persisted, his hand brushing against my shoulder. "C'mon, don't be like that. Let me buy you a drink."

Before I could react, he grabbed my wrist, and I felt a surge of panic. L opened my mouth to protest, but the words stuck in my throat. Just as I was about to push him away, a familiar voice cut through the tension. "Let her go."