His Fury

                                    

                                          
Chapter 45
Aston glared at Nyrah with a fury that made her tremble in fear of what he might do next. She had no idea how he had found out she was here; as far as she knew, he was supposed to be at the company. Yet here he stood, fixing her with a furious look that could make anyone wish to vanish. Kyros, initially confused by the situation, quickly shifted to an unbothered stance when he saw Nyrah’s silent plea to avoid a scene, especially in front of him.
Aston grabbed Nyrah’s shoulder, his face contorted with lethal wrath, and began to shout, “What are you doing here?” Nyrah, struggling to calm him, stammered, “A-Aston, I-I will... Let's go home.” She finally found her voice, but Aston’s grip tightened painfully on her arm as she tried to break free.
At this moment, Kyros decided to intervene. “That’s not a way to treat your wife,” he advised calmly. Aston turned his furious gaze on Kyros, clearly wishing he could bury him on the spot. “You will not tell me what to do with her,” he warned, his voice a low growl. Ignoring Kyros’s interference, Aston yanked Nyrah’s hand and began to pull her out of the place, his anger simmering dangerously.
"Aston, what are you doing? Leave me!" Nyrah pleaded, her voice filled with desperation.
But he didn't. As they reached the parking lot, her patience was running thin. On top of that, he was not willing to let her go at all. Having no other option, she forcefully pushed him off, causing him to release her.
"Why are you doing this?" Nyrah shouted.
"What I'm doing? You tell me what you're doing here, and if you're visiting him, then why did you hide this from me?" he shouted back, his voice a mix of rage, anger, hurt, and many more emotions she couldn't identify.
A lone tear escaped her eyes as she tried to understand his intentions. When he started accusing her again, like he always did, she couldn't hold back. "Or don't tell me now that I'm not enough for you, that you're having an affair outside—"
A sharp blow hit his cheek, turning his face to the side. Nyrah began to cry in the middle of the sea of cars. "Aston, you know what? You're sick. Being with you, sooner or later, will make me lose my mind like you, and I don't want to be like you in any aspect. That's why I decided to visit a psychiatrist," she shouted, sobbing hard.
Aston, as if trying to respond to her slap with a mental one, said, "You said I'm sick, but what about you? You left people dying in front of your eyes and didn't even care to look back." He dug up the past again, like it had become his defense mechanism for his own wrongdoings. But now Nyrah knew very well he would try to do it. This time she wouldn't back down. She would give him a taste of his own medicine.
"That means you and I are the same, Aston. According to you, I left Elena dying just like you left me dying in the middle of a graveyard. Right?" she snapped back, making his eyes widen. He was so guilty about whatever he did; he didn't do it intentionally. It was his anger. "Nyrah, I didn't do it intentionally. I could never leave you dying. It was just—" His voice was much softer now, but she cut him off.
"It was what, Aston? WHAT!?"
"If you do something, it's not intentional, but if I do, it's intentional, huh?" she snapped.
This time, Aston had no words to say. With that, Nyrah left, getting into her car quickly while he stood there, still thinking. Had he really been wrong in accusing her? What if Nyrah never had any fault in it in the first place? Thinking about the possibilities made him clutch his heart in despair. No, that couldn't be true. With that, he tried to calm himself down.
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The next day, Nyrah was still not speaking to Aston. He had waited for her in her room all night, hoping for a chance to talk, but she never came. At breakfast, she was smiling and laughing with everyone except him, and even Alessa could see the tension.
As they sat at the breakfast table, the atmosphere was thick with unspoken words. Nyrah's laughter with the others felt like a sharp contrast to the cold silence she reserved for him. Aston's heart ached, but he knew he had to find a way to bridge the gap between them
As Nyrah poured coffee and chatted animatedly with Alessa and the others, Aston could see the effort she was putting into ignoring him. Her glances never strayed in his direction, and the wall between them seemed insurmountable.
Aston's mind wandered back to the graveyard incident, a memory that had since haunted him. He had stopped visiting that place, hoping to leave the past behind, but it seemed the past was not willing to let him go. He clenched his fist under the table, his frustration mounting.
"Well, I'm done," Zale said, standing up and preparing to leave for work. Alessa followed, handing him his suit jacket as he made his way to the door, leaving Nyrah and Aston alone at the breakfast table.
"We are leaving today," Aston announced, trying to catch Nyrah's eye.
"Okay," she replied, her tone indifferent, without any protest. Aston wanted to say more, to bridge the gap between them, but Nyrah stood up and headed to the kitchen before he could continue.
"Nyrah, we need to talk," he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading.
Nyrah kept her back to him, her shoulders tense. "What's there to talk about, Aston? You’ve already said everything you needed to."
"I didn't mean to hurt you," he began, stepping closer, but she cut him off.
"You always say that," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But nothing ever changes. I can't keep doing this."
With that, she moved to the stairs to pack her bags, leaving Aston standing in the kitchen, his heart heavy with uncertainty. He watched her ascend the steps, each one feeling like it was taking her further away from him, both physically and emotionally.
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