Yeah. Fuck him. It’s not about control, my ass.
I’m so pissed as I speed walk to Elizabeth’s house that I pass her door, lost in my own internal rant, before I turn around and march back. I pound on her door so hard that her wreath comes off its hook. I’m bending down to pick it up when she opens the door a crack.
“Oh! Taryn!” She swings her door open farther. “Geez. I thought the FBI was here or something. Sounded like a raid.”
I don’t know if she’s serious. Given that we’re at St. A’s, this may very well have been part of her past experience. Of course, her dad is a senator, so maybe she’s kidding?
“Can I come in?”
“Oh, sorry! Yes, of course.” She moves out of my way to grant me entry.
I sweep past her and go straight to her refrigerator. Pull out a bottle of white wine.
“I need you to stop me from killing him.”
Elizabeth stands at her counter, watching me with wide eyes. “Who do you want to kill?”
I bark out a humorless laugh. “My new husband. My controlling, manipulative, lying new husband.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth wrings her hands. “Once you’ve poured the wine, do you want to start by explaining the controlling, the manipulating, or the lying?”
I smile at her. A genuine smile. “I told him I was staying the night here.”
“Um, okay,” Elizabeth says, her brows knitting like she’s trying to figure out if she should call a therapist or a lawyer on my behalf. “And does he know that you’re, uh, mad at him?”
I slam the wine bottle on the counter a little too hard. I’m only halfway through wrestling with the corkscrew. “Oh, I think he’ll figure it out when I don’t come home right away. Maybe when I stop sleeping with him too.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks go pink. “Oh wow. Um…that’s a…strategy.”
“Liz,” I snap at her sarcasm, then wince because she looks like I kicked her puppy. “Sorry. But I can’t even think straight right now. I heard him talking to Ryan—Ryan!—about my money. My private bank account. About how I’m going to be ‘dependent on him for everything.’” I make air quotes with the corkscrew, nearly stabbing my own hand. “He’s basically trying to make me into some kind of…kept woman. A trophy wife with no say. Like hell.”
Elizabeth steps forward, hands hovering as though she might confiscate the corkscrew for my own safety. “Maybe you…misheard? Liam seems very, well, devoted to you. He did marry you, after all.”
“Yeah, well, he also apparently decided I don’t get to control my own damn money. Or life. Or brain. You know what he said to Ryan? ‘I can’t love her…not yet…it’s too soon.’” The cork pops free, and I feel victorious for a whole half second before the words I just repeated hit me like a wrecking ball. “Not yet. Not yet. As if I’m some kind of investment that might mature into someone worth loving.”
Elizabeth’s mouth forms a tiny “o.”
“Well. That’s—” She fidgets. “That’s not very nice.”
I laugh, loud and a little crazy. “Not very nice? I’m furious. Furious. My blood pressure is so high right now, I can hear it.”
“Well,” she says gently, as if speaking to a feral animal, “you’re here now. Which is good. We can…decompress. Have some wine. Maybe talk it through,calmly, before you do anything drastic?”
I fill a glass and drink half of it in one go. “Oh, there’s nothing calm about what I’m going to do when I get home. If I even go home. Honestly, I might stay here all week. He can stew in hischarmingarrogance while I remember what it’s like to have my brain intact.”
Elizabeth tilts her head, her chestnut hair shining in the kitchen light. “I’m not sure Liam would ever hurt you intentionally. He’s not—”
“Not intentionally? Oh, good. That makes it so much better, doesn’t it?” I slam my glass down. “This is how it starts, Liz. I get all gooey because he’s charming and stupidly good-looking and so damn talented in bed. He does this thing with his tongue—”
“Taryn!” she squeaks, her hands flying to her ears like I’ve cursed in church.
“But that’s all a distraction, right? Because behind the smile, he’s pulling strings. He wants control, just like every other guy in the clan. Goddammit! I knew better than this.”
Elizabeth recovers enough to lower her hands, though her cheeks are still pink. “You sound hurt. Not just angry.”
I stop, my breath catching. Damn her. Sweet Elizabeth, seeing right through me with her soft voice and calm eyes. “Maybe I am. I thought…” I trail off, swallowing. “I thought maybe he felt something real for me. But apparently, I just fill a position in his life. I’m an obligation.”
Elizabeth steps closer and sets a delicate hand on my arm. “You’re not an obligation, Taryn. Not to me. And I don’t think you are to him either. Maybe he’s scared?”
