Chapter 1: The Closed Glass Doors

The cold mist of the late autumn rain clung to my hair, but I didn't feel it against my skin anymore. I only felt the steady, powerful rhythm of Valon’s heartbeat beneath his black collared shirt and dark coat as he carried me through the downpour. My beige heels dangled uselessly against his leg, a ridiculous, jarring detail in a night that had already fractured beyond repair.
"Hold onto me," Valon murmured, his voice low and vibrating against my chest as his boots splashed against the wet pavement of the hospital drop-off zone.
I gripped the lapels of his coat, my fingers tangling in the heavy fabric, drawing him closer. The idling black luxury SUV we had just escaped from sat behind us, its red taillights bleeding streaks of crimson across the slick asphalt.
"We were supposed to go to the lawyers," I whispered, the words catching in my throat as the sheer weight of what we had abandoned crashed over me. The mahogany desks, the polished brass nameplates, the stack of documents waiting for my signature—all of it belonged to a different life, a trap I had almost walked into willingly.
Valon didn't slow his pace. He carried me effortlessly, his dark wavy hair damp against his forehead, his jaw set in a hard, uncompromising line. He reached the entrance of the modern glass-front building, but the automatic doors remained stubbornly shut, dark and locked against the night.
I looked up into his face, my vision blurring with hot, sudden tears that traced the raw, red-rimmed skin around my eyes. The exhaustion in my bones felt heavy enough to pull me under.
"Can I touch you? Just get me inside, Valon," I pleaded, my voice breaking on a dry sob as I pressed my palm against his cheek, needing the undeniable anchor of his skin to prove I wasn't dreaming this desperate escape.
Valon paused, holding me tighter against his chest, refusing to let the cold touch me. He looked down into my eyes with a tense, razor-sharp expression that brooked no argument.
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"We're not getting a divorce today," he said.
The automatic glass doors remained tightly closed, reflecting the cool blue twilight tones of the city outside while we stood suspended in the quiet, breathless tension of the threshold. Without a second hesitation, Valon stepped closer to the glass frame, using his shoulder to shield me from the draft before reaching out to strike the heavy emergency sensor plate beside the sliding panels with the heel of his hand.