“Enough to what?” His voice had gone soft. Dangerous.
“Nothing.”
“Lexina.”
“I said nothing!”
“You’re lying.” He rose from his chair, and she took an instinctive step back, but there was nowhere to go—just the wall behind her and him in front of her, moving closer with that intent look that made her knees weak. “Your eyes go left when you’re making things up. They’ve been going left since you said the word ‘Guile.’”
Oh no.
“So let me ask you again.” He stopped in front of her, close enough that she could smell his cologne, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. “Your relationship history. Before marriage. What is it really?”
“I told you—”
“The truth this time.”
“I AM telling the truth!”
“Then look me in the eye and say it.”
She tried.
She really, really tried.
But his gaze was too intense, and her heart was beating too fast, and the lie was crumbling around her like wet paper, and—
“I...there was...”
“Yes?”
“They were...I mean, I...”
“Use your words, Lexina.”
“I AM using my words!” Her voice pitched higher, cracking with frustration and embarrassment and eight years of feelings she’d never been allowed to express. “There just aren’t enough of them because I don’t—I’ve never—unlike YOU, some of us didn’t spend six years flying to Milan every month doing whatever with your—your COMPANION—”
“This isn’t about Milan.”
“Everything is about Milan!” And oh, there were the tears, pricking at her eyes despite her best efforts. “You had someone and I had NO ONE and now you’re standing there demanding to know about my EXPERIENCE when I don’t HAVE any because I was too busy being your perfect wife while you were off with HER—”
“What do you mean you don’t have any?”
“I MEAN—”
The words were tumbling out now, a flood she couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop, because she was so tired of pretending, so tired of being the composed one, the understanding one, the wife who never made waves—
“I mean I don’t know how to answer these stupid questions because unlike you I never DID anything! I never WENT anywhere! I just stayed here being your perfect little wife while you were with her and I was just—I’ve never even—”
She clapped her hands over her mouth.
Too late.
“Never even what?” His voice was barely a whisper.
And Lexy—
Lexy, who had spent eight years being patient and understanding and so very, very good—
