Who does this man think he is, thinking he can make that decision alone? He's out of his mind if he thinks he can subjugate me. I just freed myself from the tyranny of my parents to now accept him as my jailer. Not a chance. I grab my purse and take out my cellphone, searching for the hotel page where I initially planned to stay. I need a place to spend the night. I know I could stay at Ivanov's house, but I wouldn't want to be the source of conflict between them, and under no circumstances am I going to sleep next to Nicolas. That's definitely not an option.
I am completely frustrated. I've been trying for forty minutes and I haven't found a place to spend the night. It seems like the whole world is conspiring against me. I thought that these couple of days between work and distance could leave my problems behind, but no, now my main problem decides to take a plane and follow me to Russia. Isn't this just bad luck? I sigh, feeling overwhelmed, and run my hands through my hair.
I decide to call Ivanov and ask him to send me my belongings. Luckily, everything is packed. I dial his number and he answers on the third ring.
"Hello, are you home already?" Ivanov asks once he answers.
"Hi, I won't be able to go, actually, I wanted to ask you a favor. Can you send me the things I left in the room, if possible?"
"Of course, just tell me where you want me to send them."
"The Ritz-Carlton."
"Alright, you know my house doors are open for you, although I understand if Thompson doesn't allow you to stay under my roof. If you were my wife, I'd take care of you even from my own shadow."
"I'm sorry about the uncomfortable situation you had to endure. If you decide not to choose our company because of this, I'll understand."
"That won't influence my decision at all. I trust your responsibility and good judgment. What I don't understand is how a beautiful and intelligent woman like you ends up involved with someone like Thompson."
"It's a somewhat complicated story."
"Will you tell me one day?"
"Maybe I will."
"I'll be eagerly waiting to see you again."
"Thank you for everything, you're a good man."
"Don't rely on appearances. Goodbye, Anna Brown."
"Goodbye."
I leave the phone on the table and lie down on the sofa. I close my eyes, just for a few seconds, and then I hear a knock on the door. I reluctantly get up and make my way to the door. I open it and find a hotel employee carrying several plates. I furrow my brow slightly since I didn't place any orders.
"Good afternoon, your husband, Mr. Thompson, sends you lunch."
"Thank you, come in." I address the woman politely. She nods and enters the room, leaving everything behind and then heading towards the door.
"Excuse me," she says and leaves without any further words.
I sit back on the sofa for a moment, taking off my shoes. I remove my blazer, feeling the cold on my body. It's starting to drizzle outside, and the temperature drops to about 9°C. I search for the heating system and quickly warm up once I activate it. I head to the table where the woman left the lunch and realize that even in a week, I wouldn't be able to eat this much. What is Nicolas thinking, sending so much food? I sigh and have a taste of the hot soup, try a couple of dishes more, and decide it's enough. I sigh again, then go to bed. My eyes close, and just as I'm in that thin line between reality and unconsciousness, the door opens, and Nicolas enters, pulling me out of my reverie. He approaches the table and then looks at me.
"Why haven't you had lunch?" he asks with a furrowed brow, a hint of reproach in his voice.
"I did, it's just that you sent enough food for a whole battalion."
"You're pregnant, and you need to eat properly, don't forget."
"Do you need me to go buy some clothes?" he asks with a more relaxed expression.
"I asked Ivanov to send me my belongings."
"I see. I'm going to take a bath," he says. His tone has turned cold again. He really has personality issues.
Approximately twenty minutes have passed when he comes out again. He only has a small towel covering his lower part, revealing his strong and defined abdomen. Small droplets of water adorn his body. His incipient beard and wet hair are a sight to behold for anyone, and I am no exception.
"Even with your mouth shut, you look the same," he comments, raising an eyebrow as he heads towards his suitcase.
"What? What did you say?" I ask, shaking my head. "Nicolas, forget what I was about to do," he turns towards me, walks in my direction, and once in front of me, he leans in, resting his arms on the bed on either side of my body. He dangerously gets closer and says:
"I don't like dishonest and disobedient women. Close your mouth, and nothing will happen."
"You're an idiot. You'd be the last man I'd get involved with at this point in my life. I have higher aspirations," I respond. Our gazes lock in a battle neither of us is willing to lose. After a long while, my eyes start to burn, but I won't give up. Fortunately, the hotel phone rings. Nicolas answers it and asks them to come up. He hangs up and speaks to me.
"It seems your dear Ivanov has sent your things," he says, heading back to the suitcase, this time actually taking out the clothes he will wear.
...***...
Hours have passed. I wanted to go out for dinner, but Nicolas opposed, claiming that the weather is not favorable for a pregnant woman to go out. God, he wants to control even if I should go out or not. That's why we ended up having dinner together in the room.
"Nicolas."
"Yes, tell me."
"I want a divorce."
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