The moment the car stopped, I opened my door.
Daniel caught my wrist.
“Please don’t run.”
“Let go of me!”
He released my wrist but moved between me and the open door.
“Emily, listen to me. I know how this looks.”
“How it looks? You’re frightening me!”
“I can’t let you leave before you hear the truth.”
I tried to push past him.
He pulled me toward the back seat, and in the struggle, he used a wide fabric strap to restrain my lower legs.
I stared at him in disbelief.
“Daniel! What are you doing?”
He looked as horrified by his own actions as I felt.
But he didn’t immediately release me.
I began to cry.
“Our wedding is in three days! I love you! Why would you do this to me?”
He lowered his head.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t explain anything!”
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
