All Chapters of My Family’s choice: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

ANASTASIA'S POVJust as the words leave my mouth, Tyler completely stills. His eyes remain fixed at me, unblinking. I am pretty sure he stopped breathing. All the colours drain off his face within seconds. He looks pale as if he is about to lose consciousness. I don't move either. I let him soak in the fact that I know."What?" His voice comes out in a hoarse whisper and lets go of my hand. I almost miss what he says above the rattling noise of rain. He blinks rapidly, gaining back his consciousness."You got married because of your mother, right?" Looking him straight in the eye."How... how did you know?" He manages to say."Because your mum told me, Tyler. She told me about her sickness and why she wanted to see you get settled! One can easily figure out the rest!" I exclaim.He lets out a hefty breath as I see relief flooding through his eyes. His body relaxes heavily, and then he straightens up. He gains back his composure with the previous guarded expression back. "Why didn't y

ANASTASIA’S POVI stand up from my desk and begin to pack my things. It’s been a long, exhausting day. Meetings, calls, appointments, and the endless pressure that comes with managing the hospital. The new branch opening in Florida has only been added to the workload. But it’s fine. Once it’s done, all this stress will have been worth it.I have a plan... to move to Florida permanently.There’s nothing left for me here except work. Once the Florida branch is up and running, I won’t have to stay in this city anymore. I can finally leave. Go somewhere new. Somewhere that isn’t full of painful memories. I just have to wait until this marriage is over...Which is what I want.... Isn’t it?It’s Monday. We haven’t spoken since Saturday night. Things between Tyler and me have been tense — awkward, even. But no matter how much I try to push the memory away, I can’t forget how it felt when I held his hand, the way his eyes softened, desperate for comfort.I’ve dealt with my fair share of loss,

ANASTASIA'S POV That was Monday. It’s been three days since. We haven’t argued since that night at the pool, barely even talked. There’s always this tension between us that we can’t ignore. I feel it, and I know he feels it too.Right now, I’m sitting in the living room with a book in my hand. Arranging cushions on both sides and my lap, I’ve made myself comfortable on the couch. My feet rest on the centre table. It’s quite late. I didn’t have much work today, so I’m not that tired. Besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve spent some quiet time reading.I hear the sound of a car pulling up and instantly recognize it as Tyler’s. Soon, the front door opens, and he comes stomping into the living room.“I don’t give a fuck, just make it happen!” he shouts into the phone pressed to his ear and storms past the couch. “I am really not in the mood to do this right now, got it?” he snaps again.He seems furious… more than I’ve ever seen him. He climbs the stairs and disappears behind the wal

DYLAN’S POV Last night was helluva exhausting. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. To be honest, I was expecting this day to come, but I can never be prepared for this. I just have to keep going. I’ve been up for ten minutes now, lying down, thinking about all that happened in the last few hours, which is a lot. It was too much to take in all at once — with Anastasia sharing so much about her past and breaking down in my arms, it added more to the fiasco. However, I am glad Anastasia shared so much with me. I finally remove the covers off my legs and leave the bed. It’s already seven-thirty. I don’t have to be at work until ten. As I close the door to my bedroom, my eyes fall right across the hallway on Anastasia’s door. Before I can stop myself, I walk across and open it. When I peep in, there is no one in the room — not even Pookie, who usually comes down every morning along with Anastasia when she leaves for work. Sometimes she takes him with her, sometimes she

TYLER’S POV "What do you mean?" she frowns, confusion clouding her features. Way to act, Anastasia. Her eyes are red and swollen, tear stains still clear on her rosy cheeks. The tip of her nose, her ears—everything is red. She’s been crying. And the fact that it might be because of me makes it even worse. "Why aren't you at work?" I ask, my tone clipped and serious. There I was, thinking we were finally getting along, trying to be understanding. Then she goes and does this?! What is she running from? Why can’t she just accept things and move on? She blinks at me, registering my words before saying, "And I’m supposed to answer you?" She crosses her arms, scowling. Oh, she wants to do this now? Fine. "Yes," I answer, mimicking her posture. My glare holds hers—steady, intense. Beneath the anger, disappointment burns deeper. Knowing she still doesn’t trust me, not even a little, stings more than I’d ever admit. It hurts. Badly. "Why so?" she challenges. "Because I’m your husband.