The Night She Stopped Begging

Tessa lifted her gaze to the man standing before her, and her chest tightened until it felt like her ribs might shatter.

Just the sight of him was enough to break her all over again.

Her vision blurred as tears welled, heavy with the memories of everything she had sacrificed for this man who never once chose her.

Her throat tightened, but she forced the tears back, blinking them away before they could fall. Enough.

She had cried enough for him. Now, her face hardened, settling into the mask she had learned to wear, one that gave nothing away.

Inside, she broke. But he would never see her beg again.

Tessa scoffed and turned, her hand already on the door.

“Thank you for everything, Raymond. It was nice while it lasted.”

He was visibly taken aback for a while seeing that she had coldly called him Raymond for the first time.

As she made to step out, his hand clamped around her arm and pulled her back so suddenly she stumbled into his chest.

In one swift motion, he hoisted her over his shoulder, ignoring her furious pounding fists against his back.

“Put me down, you—” Her voice cracked with rage. “Raymond, let me go!”

He didn’t answer, only motioned sharply for Jim to grab her suitcase. His strides were long and unrelenting as he carried her up the grand staircase.

“Do you hear me? You’re insane!” Tessa cursed, kicking against him, though her blows barely slowed him down.

Raymond’s jaw was locked; his face solemn as he shoved open the door to their bedroom. He set her down none too gently, and she tumbled onto the bed with a soft thud.

Pain flared in her lip as she bit it, but she refused to let a sound escape. Instead, she pushed herself up at once, fire blazing in her eyes.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Her voice was sharp, laced with the fury of someone who had nothing left to lose.

When she tried to storm past him, he blocked her path, his hands gripping her shoulders, pressing her back down against the mattress.

She struggled hard, but his strength was a wall she couldn’t budge. His dark eyes bore in to hers, full of storm, confusion, and something else she refused to name.

Her chest heaved as she glared up at him. “Let. Me. Go.” Each word was clipped, steady, and sharp as broken glass.

“Well, Mrs. Anderson,” Raymond mocked, his voice a whip across the air. “You make it sound like you’re determined to divorce.”

Tessa bit her lip hard, fury surging through her veins. What a bastard. Her eyes burned into his with all the strength she had left, a silent declaration that she wasn’t afraid anymore.

He leaned closer, his breath brushing her face. For a heartbeat, she thought he might kiss her, but she turned her head away sharply, her chin lifting with defiance.

Raymond froze.

For the first time, she had refused him openly, without hesitation.

His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing as though the world had shifted beneath his feet.

“Tessa,” he whispered, her name heavy with warning.

“Let. Me. Go.” Her voice was steady, cold as steel, and her blue eyes held no warmth for him.

The words cut him deeper than he expected, and for a moment his composure cracked.

Then he straightened, his grip tightening as he tried to reassert control.

“That is not the way to talk to your husband,” he said, though the edge in his voice betrayed his shaken pride.

She gave a short, bitter laugh. “Soon-to-be ex-husband, you mean.”

Something flickered in his expression, anger, yes, but beneath it, a certain type of fear.

His hold on her arms tightened in reflex, but Tessa did not flinch, did not cry out.

“I have the right to say no,” she threw back, every syllable deliberate, unyielding.

Raymond’s eyes locked on hers, dark and stormy, searching for the woman who once bent obediently to his will.

But she wasn’t there anymore.

What stood before him now was another version of her, the stubborn type.

And for the first time, he realized he might lose her.

The world outside their bedroom ceased to exist. Raymond’s breath was ragged, his forehead pressed to hers, his voice raw with desperation.

“You’re mine,” he whispered harshly. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Tessa’s chest heaved, her heart a thunderclap inside her ribs. She glared at him, her voice sharp as broken glass.

“To hell with you and your goddamned ownership. I am not your property, Raymond. Let. Me. Go.”

She shoved at him with everything in her, and she managed to free her right hand and smacked him on the face.

Raymond’s head snapped to the side, his jaw tightening as color rose to his face.

For a moment, silence reigned, heavy, suffocating. His eyes burned with a storm of emotions: rage, disbelief…

“Well, Tessa,” he ground out, voice low, dangerous. “Very well... You asked for it.”

Before she could respond, his phone lit up and began to buzz against the nightstand. The name flashed across the screen in bold letters: Danielle, followed by two little red hearts.

Tessa’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes locked on the screen, her stomach twisting violently. He added emojis to her name? Since when?

Raymond’s gaze flickered to the phone, and for the first time, he didn’t reach for it.

Instead, with a hiss of frustration, he hit the button and silenced the call.

Tessa blinked in shock. He had never ignored Danielle before. Not once.

When his eyes returned to hers, the fury had dulled, replaced with something softer.

His grip on her wrist loosened, though he didn’t let her go entirely.

Slowly, almost cautiously, his free hand rose to her face, tracing the line of her jaw with a tenderness that contradicted the storm raging moments before.

Her breath caught as his palm cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin.

His eyes searched hers, dark and unreadable, as if he was trying to find the woman, he’d been hell-bent on keeping yet incapable of truly holding.

“Tessa…” his voice broke, low, unsteady - a sound she had never heard from him before.

Was that a tear she saw?