"Tell me," Anastasia ordered. "Tell me you don’t love me. Tell me it was a show."

I hesitate when I look into my wife’s blue teary eyes. How can I tell her I love her? It was only a forced marriage — not love. If my father was to see me in such a state over a woman, I don’t think I’d live to see another day.

"I don’t love you.

She lets out a small soft gasp. Her lips part and her eyes widen.

I look away. I can’t bare to see her like this.

Without another word, she suddenly leaves. My arms scream to reach out for her, my legs to start running, my heart to just tell her. My brain says no.

Signs of emotions are signs of weakness. Isn’t that right, father?

(Based off of War of Fire)