He scowls down at me, his hands resting on my shoulders, so close to circling my neck, then sighs and presses his forehead to mine, bumping my tender nose.
“I could kill you,” he murmurs.
“It’s just a car. Buy another one.”
“Buy another one? Fuck the car.” He laughs, jagged and raw, his fingers digging into me. “There isn’t another one. Only you.”
“You figured that out a little too late.”
He loosens his hold and smooths my sleeves. “Yeah.” The elevator dings. “Come on, Harley Quinn. Let’s get you home to your babies.”
Instantly, fear sours my gut. “I won’t do anything like that again,” I say in a rush. “I swear. It was a mistake.”
“A mistake.” He chuckles once. “Come on.”
He guides me off the elevator and down an access hall, making phone calls while we walk. He tells Mike to apologize to the Richards on our behalf, that my stomach disagreed with me, but I’m sure to recover soon enough. The story might fool the Richards into thinking I have morning sickness, but Delaney will know the truth. She won.
I pull away from Adrian. He draws me right back to his side.
He calls a car to pick us up and checks in with James to make sure the attendant spoke to him and the car was being handled. James must ask what happened because Adrian says, “I pay you very well to not explain myself,” and hangs up.
We emerge from the building at a loading dock. The snow is coming down harder, but the flakes are small like powdered sugar.
Adrian shrugs off his jacket, holds it up for me, and orders, “Arms.”
I slide my arms into the sleeves. My brain is rubbery, like it usually is after an episode. I won’t be clearheaded again until after I sleep.
Adrian helps me down the metal stairs to the lot where the trucks make deliveries. When we’re on the ground, he doesn’t let go, so while we shelter by a concrete wall and wait for the car, we hold hands. Does he think I’m going to run?
Is he plotting to send me away? Is he thinking about that holistic wellness retreat in Switzerland?
They sent me away for almost a year and a half in Baltimore, and they didn’t have Adrian’s money and connections. I can’t leave the girls. Winnie wouldn’t even remember me if I was gone that long.
“Don’t send me away.” I stare at the smudged toes of my flats. I hate asking him for anything when the woman he fucked is dangling her red-soled shoe from her toes a few floors away, but I have no pride when it comes to my babies.
I know I should have thought of them before I did what I did. Shame burns under my skin. Now is now, though. I’ve never been able to undo my mistakes, but maybe this time—
“I’d die if you took them away from me.” I don’t have the strength to firm my voice. The words come out a snotty, hysterical babble.
Adrian glances over and exhales. “I’m not taking the girls away from you. I wouldn’t do that to any of us.”
“What about the prenup?”
“Fuck the prenup. Prenup is over.” He grabs me by the arms and whirls me to face him. “Try to divorce me if you want, but don’t ever, ever,everscare me like that again.Ever.” He shakes me to emphasize his point. My body’s pretty much rubber, too, so my neck snaps back and forth. “Shit.” He stops immediately and seizes my head to stop the bobbling. “Did that hurt? Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head, but he’s still holding it like he’s afraid it’s going to fall off my neck.
He exhales. “Just don’t ever do anything like that again, Cora. Just don’t. Please.” His voice is frayed.
He drops his hands to his sides and collapses to lean against the dock, exhausted. The dark smudges under hiseyes that never go away now are almost purple in the shadows of the building.
His face is grim, his shoulders stiff like he’s been forcing himself to stand straight for too long.
“Cora, all I want is for you to stay. For it to be like it was again.” He stares across the lot at the alley running past. Skyscrapers rise above us on all sides.
“It can never be like it was again.”
His jaw flexes, his shoulders somehow tensing even more. “I know.”
