Chapter 109: Properly Scold You
Mira struggled to find the words. How could she explain that it wasn’t his fault—that the blame lay solely with her? She was the one who had run away, yet the look on his face showed nothing but guilt. The realization twisted painfully inside her.
"You did nothing wrong," she murmured, reaching out, hoping her words could ease some of the guilt in his eyes.
"No, I must have." His voice cracked ever so slightly, sending a shock through her. She never imagined she’d hurt him this deeply. "You... you ran away."
Mira stilled, the weight of his words sinking into her heart. Had he really cared that much? She swallowed, and after a moment of gathering her courage, choked out, "Then... why didn’t you sign the divorce papers?"
The tears she’d fought to hold back now spilled over. "I asked, I hinted, I even tried to tell you that I didn’t want to leave. But you... you never once told me to stay." Her voice wavered as she continued. "You never said you didn’t want a divorce. I told you I loved you... but you didn’t take my words seriously."
She let out a bitter laugh, holding his gaze as he stood there, frozen, his eyes widening in disbelief. "You’re so... so infuriating," she whispered, the pain lacing her voice.
"If you’d agreed to be a family, our child wouldn’t have grown up dreaming of the day she could meet her daddy," she continued, a hollow laugh breaking free, as if it could somehow stop the tears from flowing. But it didn’t. The laughter died as she punched his chest, releasing years of pent-up frustration. He didn’t flinch, didn’t step back. He took it all in, silent and unmoving.
"If only she knew her daddy was there all along..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "And now... now, how do I tell her that her daddy finally wants us to be together?" She leaned her forehead against his chest, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as if holding onto him could somehow keep her heart from shattering.
"You’re so rude," she whispered, the words slicing through the air between them, each syllable weighted with the memories of all the moments he’d missed, the years they’d both lost. Zamian’s expression softened, as if her words held the power to pull him back to a time when things had been simpler, when all she had wanted was to hear him say that she could stay.
"You’re telling me now..."She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. "You’re telling me now that you didn’t want a divorce?" She said as she stared up at him, the unasked question lingering between them.
She looked away, her voice breaking. "I ran, Zamian, because I was scared. You kept me in the dark. I wanted to feel loved... I wanted you to share even the smallest details with me, to take me out sometimes, to let me be a part of your life. But you were always so busy, so distant." She laughed, but it was hollow, devoid of joy. "I know it sounds selfish, maybe even greedy, but that’s what I wanted."