“Adrian, you know exactly why I don’t like red.”
His smile froze.
He stepped forward to hug me, but I moved away.
“I’m tired. I’m going to my room.”
I turned, but he grabbed my arm hard.
His face was dark, his voice a near growl.
“Layla! What the hell is going on with you?
You won’t listen to my explanation, you won’t take my gift—what exactly do you want?”
In the past, I would have backed down immediately, terrified he’d lose patience with me.
After all, he’d saved me once, and for a long time, he was all I had.
But now, that didn’t matter.
I pulled my arm free and pointed to my stomach.
“I’m pregnant. I’m tired.”
A flicker of panic crossed his eyes before he let go.
As I walked away, he called after me and handed me the necklace he’d picked up.
“I’m sorry, Layla. I lost my temper. Keep it. The past should stay in the past, and I’ll always be here for you from now on.”
Was he really telling me to let it go?
But a perpetrator has no right to tell the victim to “let it go.”
I shoved Adrian away and walked off without looking back.
The day before our anniversary, a stranger added me on WeChat. I accepted.
They sent me a video.