The Love I Begged For Was Never Real novel Chapter 143

The expression on Nora's face shattered instantly.

"Giselle... don't go... I can protect you..."

Gideon's brow was twisted in sheer agony, his voice laced with a desperate plea. "...you're all I have left..."

His large, scorching hand was locked around her wrist like a vice. The intense heat bled through her skin, but all she felt was an agonizing, bone-deep freeze sweeping through her veins.

He was trapped in a horrific nightmare. His brow was violently knit together, his eyes shut tight, and his normally stoic face was contorted in obvious struggle and pain.

In his dream, he was fighting tooth and nail to hold onto something, terrified of losing it, desperately begging the person in his nightmare not to abandon him.

But the name he cried out had absolutely nothing to do with her.

Nora stared down at the hand trapping her.

She didn't know what horrific past he was reliving, nor what kind of terrifying memory could reduce this permanently unshakeable man into such a shattered state.

And she didn't want to know anymore.

She raised her free hand and, finger by finger, forcefully pried off his punishing grip.

Finally, losing his anchor, his arm dropped heavily back onto the mattress.

Nora stood up straight. Without sparing the man on the bed a single backward glance, she turned and marched out of the master bedroom. The wooden door clicked shut behind her, perfectly cutting off every sound from within the room.

The next morning.

Sunlight pierced through the gap in the heavy curtains, casting bright streaks across the bedroom carpet.

Gideon opened his eyes. A dull, heavy throb pulsed against his temples. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose to fight off the hangover.

He rarely ever let himself get drunk. As the head of the Hayes Group, he was accustomed to maintaining absolute clarity. Yet last night at the club, he had uncharacteristically thrown back shot after shot of hard liquor.

Nora was sitting on the living room sofa. She was wearing a light-grey knit sweater, her back arrow-straight. She stared blankly at the coffee table ahead, completely motionless.

Looking at her slender back, the image of his explosive rage from yesterday afternoon hit him again.

He knew his reaction yesterday had been far too extreme. She had merely knocked a box over by accident; he could have handled it calmly instead of detonating.

Gideon softened his footsteps and walked up behind the sofa.

He stopped right behind her.

Looking at her frail shoulders, he hesitated for a brief second before reaching his arms out and wrapping them gently around her from behind.

As his chest pressed against her back, his familiar, sharp cedarwood scent instantly engulfed her.

The second he touched her, Nora's entire body went rigid.