The Runaway Bride

Chapter 8

I couldn't stand being around him after what had happened. 

I planned on asking him for that divorce, but I hadn't made an effort. But as I chopped the vegetable for dinner and he sat on the kitchen island in front of me on his laptop, I couldn't help but feel like I should ask. 

"Can I ask you something?" I asked, not looking up at him. My eyes focused on my chopping hands. 

He nodded his head him not looking up either. 

"Should we get a divorce?"

"What?" he raised his voice, and I finally met his eyes. 

"What?" I questioned, shrugging my shoulder. 

"Why do you want to get one now?" he asked. 

"Frankly, we should have gotten one a long time ago, but I didn't think you would come back," 

There it was again—the guilt in his eyes. But just like last time, it was masked away in a matter of seconds. 

"Well, I don't want to get one," he crossed his arm. 

I scowled at him and stopped cutting the vegetable, and stared at him. "What do you mean you don't want to get one?" 

"I mean that I don't want to get one," he rolled his eyes. 

I was ready to throw that knife at him. He doesn't get to say that. It doesn't always get to be whatever he wants. 

"Why not?" I asked sternly. 

He got up from his seat and came to stand next to me. I turned to look at him, the knife still in my hand. 

He bends down to my head, whispering seductively, "Because I want you," 

I could feel the shivers run down my spine and the electricity in my core. 

"I don't want you to be no other man's woman. You were once mine, and I want you," I hadn't even realized that the knife was no longer in my hand but instead fisting at my side. 

I could sense his arousal, and I wanted to curse at myself on my own.

I have to pull it together. "Well, you c-can’t have m-me!" I tried to sound confident, but my voice stuttered. "I was never yours in the first place, so don't think I ever was," 

He came closer to me. I could feel his breath against my lips. "Maybe you were, and maybe you weren't. I could care less about the past, but you’re who I want, and I don't want you near that low life again," he hissed. 

"Why? Are you jealous?" I managed to smirk despite the hammering inside my chest. 

He lifted my chin with his finger, and it took everything in me not to crumble at his feet. 

"Yes," my eyes went wide. "I'm not going to tell you I am not. So I don't want you near him," he said. 

"Well, I like him. I've liked him for a while now. And you and I both know I never liked you," I poked his chest. 

"Who said I like you?" 

I raised an eyebrow. "Then why can't you leave me alone?" 

"Look, I don't like you, and I'm not even close to liking you, but your mine and I take care of whatever is mine. I let you leave once, but..." he pulled my elbow and wrapped an arm around my waist, so I'm mere inches away from his lips. "Not this time," and then his lips connected with mine. 

I try to pull back, but his grip on my waists tighten. He kissed me hard. And his hands went under my shirt and travelled down my bareback. 

The butterflies in my stomach erupted, and I hated myself for actually liking this. 

I couldn't help but think about the night we spent together three years ago. Yes, we were both drunk, but part of me knew exactly what was happening. 

And he was good. Really good. 

But I regretted it soon after. I was in disbelieve that I even let it happen. 

I don't want to let the same mistake happen again. 

I put my hands on his chest and pushed as hard as I could. And he stumbled back. He looked shocked and tried to reach forward, but I put a hand in front of me. 

"Don't touch me again. I told you I want a divorce. You haven't been here for a long time, and I moved on from you and our stupid marriage. I was the dumb one not to do pursue anything with Chris when I knew you were out f*****g every girl in town," I hadn't even realized I held this much in me. But I was angry. Not just now, but I always was. 

"Then why didn't you?" He raised his voice. "Why didn't you do anything with Chris when I wasn't in your life?" He asked. 

It was a valid question, and the only answer to that was because I was still tight down to his name. I was known around this whole town as Anna Hall. Hall. His name his last name. The exact name I had to change and give to my son. 

"Because of you," I told him and walked away. 

I had just left everything as it was and closed the bedroom door. 

I rambled my hair and plopped down on my bed. 

Being angry is not even the correct word to describe how I felt. I was furious.

I had never felt this furious ever in my life. But living with a stubborn man can change everything. 

I wanted to be with my Elias. He was the only source of happiness I need in my life, but it was probably a good thing he wasn't here right now. 

My poor boy would have gotten terrified. 

I tried to relax, close my eyes, and take in a few deep breaths, but that seemed only to have lasted a few seconds since Reid had walked in. 

"Can you just let me be alone?" 

He leaned against the door frame. "Well, I would, but you kinda just left your food all over the island," he crossed his arm. 

I groaned. "If it bothers you, clean it up," I told him. 

He rolled his eyes. "Do you want me to order pizza?" He asked so casually as if we hadn't just fought. 

"Will you give me the divorce papers if I said yes?" I mocked. 

"No," 

"Then no. I'm not hungry," I turned away from him. 

"Suit yourself. I'm going to get food," he said, leaving away from the door. 

He was beyond me. I couldn't stay here any longer alone with him especially. 

I needed to relax, and with him staying here, there's no way I can do that. 

I didn't want to stay with Chris since that would be weird. 

So I called Aria. 

She understood the whole situation and cursed at her brother a few times, and agreed to let me stay there for the night. 

I packed myself an overnight bag and went into the living room to grab my keys. 

Reid was against the table, working on his laptop while eating the pizza he had ordered himself. 

He watched me as I got the keys from the table. "Where are you going?" He asked. 

"None of your business," I said, grabbing the keys and walked over to my bag. 

He got up from the table. "You're my wife, so technically ya, it is my business," I stopped and scowled at him for repeatedly calling me that. 

"I don't give a f**k. Now move out of the way," I told him as he stood right in front of me. 

He crossed his arms again. "You're not going anywhere," he said. 

"Uhh, yes I am," I tried to move past him, but he blocked my way. 

"You're not going," he said again. 

I stomped my feet and dropped my bag on the floor, and crossed my arm. "What is your problem?" I raised my voice. 

"My problem is that you're trying to leave right now," 

"This is my apartment. I live here, and I can leave and go wherever I want," I told him in a matter-of-factly tone. 

"Technically, since we're legally still married and you still bear my last name, this is our apartment," he said. "And baby, you know if I wanted too I could buy this whole building and call it my mansion," he grinned. 

I bit my teeth. How can he be so arrogant?