“Why the hell didn’t I know,” he said slowly, each word cutting heavily through the room, “that my wife went for a brain surgery… where she could’ve died?”
Amara went completely still.
The confusion on her face deepened.
Elias took a step toward her.
Then another.
The fear inside him twisted into anger again, sharper now, louder.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, his voice rising as his hand cut through the air in frustration. “Why doesn’t your family know? Why didn’t anyone tell me anything?”
He stopped right in front of her.
His eyes burned with frustration and disbelief, jaw tight enough to ache.
“You’re my wife,” he said, quieter this time, but somehow more intense. “And you went through a goddamn surgery without telling me?”
Amara stared at him, stunned into silence. And then something inside her snapped.
Her anger flared instantly, hotter and sharper than before. Her chest rose quickly as she stared at him, eyes blazing with hurt and fury.
“Why didn’t I tell you?” she snapped, her voice rising sharply. “Why the hell would I tell you anything?”
Instead of backing away, she stepped closer to him, her hands shaking violently at her sides. Tears burned in her eyes, but the anger on her face burned even harder.
“Wasn’t it you who left me?” she demanded, her voice rising with every word. “You left me there—I was on the floor crying, and you still walked out like none of it mattered. You stood there and told me you were leaving for a three-month business trip, and then you just disappeared from my life like I meant nothing!”
Her chest heaved sharply as she fought to keep herself together.
“And now you’re asking why I didn’t tell you anything?” she laughed bitterly, shaking her head at him. “After you abandoned me like that, why the hell would I tell you anything about me at all?”
The moment the words left her mouth, Elias moved.
His hand shot out, gripping the back of her neck before pulling her hard against his chest. The movement was sudden and forceful enough to make her stumble into him.
His arm locked around her instantly, grip tightening like instinct alone refused to let her go. His jaw clenched sharply as he looked down at her, eyes dark and burning with something dangerously close to desperation.
“I am your husband, Amara!” He said harshly, his voice rough with restrained emotion. “We were not divorced. I was supposed to be the one beside you through something like that. I was supposed to be there!”
His hold tightened again for a second.
“But instead, I find out about something like this from someone else?”
His voice cracked slightly at the end, the anger splintering into something heavier underneath.
Amara shoved both hands against his chest, trying to push him away, but he barely moved.
“Husband?” she repeated, tilting her head back to glare at him. “What kind of husband stays silent while his wife is being walked all over just because he forced her into a marriage?”
Her eyes burned as she looked up at him, hurt and anger crashing together inside them.
“What kind of husband brings another woman to a party instead of his wife?” she demanded, her voice trembling harder with every word. “Do you even know how many times I had to stand there and listen to people say you did me a favor by marrying me?”
Her fingers twisted tightly into the fabric of his shirt, wrinkling it in her grip.
“How many times I was ignored? How many times you walked past me like I didn’t even exist? How many nights you came home and treated me like a stranger in my own marriage?”