Chapter 36 THIRTY SIX

Chapter 36 THIRTY SIX
I should have known men like Sergei barely tied worth or got attached to anything. His ring was only seating on my finger for less than one full day. Just a few fucking hours, maybe twelve, maybe fourteen, probably less and he was now talking about a duration of months. That he was giving me a duration of six months to walk away from something I hadn't even asked to be tied to. The ring on my finger that signified the end of my old life. The burn in my gut that endlessly reminded me of the torture he’d put me through just last night.

Fuck even that, the soles of my feet still sent shockwaves to my brain every time the cold tiles seeped in too much, and now, he was standing there, after taking everything from me in less than a week... Talking about letting off the leash.

The anger in my chest, that burned like acid, filled my gut with dread and almost made me curl up and bawl my eyes out. Why did I feel the urge to? Because he’d plucked me out of the life—miserable even at then but much preferable over this—and thrown me right into this circus that was his own life.

This… mockery.

This… shame.

This…. Rage that burned hot in my veins.

I tried to breathe through the lumps filling my throat.

The panic in my chest.

I didn't even know why I was panicking, but I was, my fingers were gripping the sheet… I was.

"What did you say?" I whispered. My eyes were on him now. Not downwards, staring at his toes, but looking up, staring at his eyes. His dead eyes. His heartless eyes, with that smirk that didn’t quite meet his eyes. "What did you say?"

"Why do you want me repeating myself?"

"Because... because…" I coached myself to breathe. Breathe, Anya, breathe. But it was almost hard to. There was a dark side to having daddy issues. Apart from my reckless love for BDSM, for being tortured, scars being left on me in the best pleasurable way. Another thing the recklessness of my cruel father's upbringing left me was… the abandonment issues.

Sergei was a monster. Sergei is a monster. But the smile on his face, the smugness, as if he could see through me clearly that I hated being left alone, that I survived off male validation and it was just a matter of time I became a leech to his, made me almost shiver. He looked so sure. So smug that whatever mind game he was playing on me was going to work. His feet planted against the tiles firmly and his ego was higher than Mount Everest.

"In case you didn’t hear me the first time... I’ll tell you again. Clearer this time," he repeated. "I want a contract with you. A CONTRACT."

I could have sworn I was red in the face. "What contract, Sergei? Why suddenly proposing a contract if… what the fuck do you mean you want a contract with me? What the fuck are you saying about letting me off after six months? What do you mean?"

"I mean... after six—"

"I heard you!" I shrieked. "I fucking heard what you said, Sergei."

He tilted his head. "Okay... and? You’re not in complaint with that?"

"You took me…"

"I did."

"Barely up to one week."

A soft nod of his head. "I know."

"You r—"

"No, Anya. Enough with the rape allegation. You are my wife…"

I could feel tears burning. I refused to let them even kiss my cheeks. While my innards, everything was squeezing with this gut-wrenching ache, it felt almost like he was doing this to saw off the rest of whatever happiness, whatever excitement I could ever muster by myself.

"Everything and you want a divorce in six months?"

"Listen, nobody mentioned a divorce."

My voice pitched. "Then what the fuck do you mean?"

"I mean you get to walk away."

"Walk away?" I refused to let my fucking voice tremble. "WALK AWAY AFTER I LOST EVERYTHING?"

"I brought you your certificate," he pointed out. "The degree you worked for."

For a second, my eyes tracked to the boxes still laying at my feet. The certificate in the envelope right at the top. The realization that he hadn’t gotten them because of me made me feel like I had been stupid to have even had the tiniest glimmer of hope that he had cared about me even in the slightest way. Now, I knew why he’d fetched it from Boston. It had nothing to do with care for me, and rather, maybe in that cold heartless chest of his... it was just a pinch of guilt.

I felt the tears burn my eyes, I refused to let them fall.

There was no point weeping.

He was suddenly proposing that I would have a way out after six months of this marriage with him, I was going to count down every day till the end of the misery. My fingers that had been clenching the bedsheet too hard on the bed beneath me were starting to cramp and my heart in my throat was starting to feel like it was smothering.

So, I smoothened the bedsheet.

"Tell me about the contract." My voice sounded like a child. I hated that it sounded small. "I want to know what you’re thinking, Sergei…"

"You don’t seem to be comfortable with this. Do you?"

I cut him off. "Let me hear what you have to say first."

There was silence. He was really contemplating. "I don’t want a divorce…"

A voice in my head whispered, neither do I, before I could even question why I’d thought that.

"Because… obviously… we just got married yesterday…"

"Which was entirely, totally, your idea…" I grated. "It wasn’t even my will. I was forced and you…" I gestured towards him aggressively. "You’re talking about a duration. A duration."

Sergei must have caught on to the feeling I didn’t even understand myself. "So you’d rather stay?"

My aggression peaked. "Listen, I JUST WANT TO KNOW WHAT’S SUDDENLY BRINGING THIS UP." I thought about the numerous things I’d heard from the hallway. Doctors’ visit. Losing the base. Having to protect. Never coming back. All of it. All of it. And I couldn’t even place which one seemed to be the cause of why he was suddenly giving me a chance and an opportunity to choose to walk away from this.

"What is happening?"

"You’ll see."

"Tell me now."

His voice deepened. "You’ll see."

"Let me hear the terms to this marriage."

Again, never gratingly. It was calm. "I will. And you’ll see…"

And right before he turned away, to drop his sweatpants to the ground as he walked towards the closet in the corner of the room, his words as he disappeared into it, butt naked, were, "We leave this place in twenty minutes. I have a surprise for you…"

It was hard not to stare at his ass. "Wh- what- what?"

His voice came back muffled as the doors clapped shut behind him.

"If you’re not going to be coming here forever or at least in a long time, you should be seeing your mother again. I’m taking you to Nichols Hills…" His voice faded. "For the last time."