Page 11 of Jetmir

He looked at the baklava. Then at me. And I saw the exact moment he realized what I’d done. As understanding slowly filled his expression, horror soon followed it.

His eyes found me, disbelief and betrayal swimming in them.

“What did you do?”

I slid the wedding ring off my finger, put it on the table. My eyes filled with tears as I stood up, then took a step backwards. “I tried to warn you.”

“No.” His voice cracked. “No, no, no.”

He took a step forward too quickly and nearly fell. “Anya.”

I backed toward the door while he watched me with a twisted expression filled with pain.

“You poisoned me?”

“I lied to my family and friends about you. I broke so many rules for you. I would have done anything for you. I loved you so much and would do anything to be with you,” I breathed. “We crossed too many lines. We hurt people, especially Gabriel. He needs me and I cannot ignore him for you.”

“No.” His voice became a desperate roar. He staggered toward me. “You don’t get to leave me.”

I shook my head. “I am leaving you.”

His eyes were like thunderclouds, slowly filling with anguish.

“You said you’d never give me up,” I whispered.

“I won’t.” He collapsed against the table, gasping. “I can’t give you up.”

I opened the kitchen door, unable to keep looking at him. If I caved in now and tended to him, I’d never leave him. “Goodbye, Jetmir Thorne.”

“Anya!” His agonizing scream echoed behind me. It followed me into the hallway. “ANYA!”

I could hear him choking out my name again and again, his screams tearing through the house. But beneath the agony was something worse. The sound of a man realizing, too late, that the person he had sworn never to lose was already gone.

I didn’t take anything with me. I didn’t look back. I just ran, ignoring my aching heart that demanded I go back.

The Albanian hospital in Vlorë smelled like antiseptic and stale coffee. Outside, the city was bright and alive, but here, everything felt gray. Or maybe that was my mood, knowing I’d left my husband and my heart in the kitchen of the place we made our home for the short weeks we’d been together.

Walking down the corridor, my fingers twisted the spot where my wedding ring used to be. I missed the weight of it. Damn, I even missed that psychopath, but I knew our relationship—marriage—was going nowhere.

I stopped outside the hospital room and took a breath, terrified of what I would find when I entered. I’d seen my brother injured before. Bruised, bleeding, exhausted. I had seen him come home with blood on his shirt and I always knew not to question or ask for details.

But this was different. This time, my actions directly led to him getting hurt.

Inhaling deeply, then slowly exhaling, I pushed the door open.

Gabriel was sitting upright in the hospital bed, his head turned slightly toward the window. His eyes were bandaged, and the sight hit me hard.

“Hey,” I whispered.

His head whipped around in my direction. “Anya?”

I swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

A faint smile touched his mouth. “I’m so happy to see…” He trailed off, then swallowed. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Me too.” I let out a shaky laugh as I walked toward him, then took his hand in mine. “God, Gabriel, I’m so sorry. I’m so⁠—”

“It’s not your fault.”