Back against the wall.
Looking like a man who just lost everything he didn’t know he could bleed for.
Marble and Silk
Sabrina
It happens in a blink.
One second I’m smiling, riding the high of the room, of the night, of everything I built—and the next, I see it.
Bekki’s hand.
On Langston’s arm.
It shouldn’t mean anything. I know that. I know my husband. I know the way he looks at me, the way he touches me like I’m something precious instead of convenient. I know he would never do anything to hurt me.
But seeing her here—here, in my space, in my night—hits something raw and ugly inside my chest.
I need a second.
Just one.
Before I do something truly unhinged. Like stab a woman in the eye with an appetizer fork and ruin my own event.
I turn and head down the hallway toward the bathrooms, forcing my breathing to slow, my shoulders to relax, my smile to stay in place until I’m out of sight.
I almost make it.
Almost.
A hand clamps around my arm and yanks me sideways.
“What the—”
I stumble into the supply closet.
My heart slams into my ribs.
Elliott.
Of fucking course it’s Elliott.
“What are you doing?” I snap, ripping my arm free. “Why are you touching me? Get away from me.”
He steps closer instead.
The space shrinks. The air feels thick, stale, wrong.
“I heard about the deal,” he says, lips curling like he’s already won. “One year. That’s all you’re supposed to give him. Then you can come back to me.”
Shock slices through me so fast it almost knocks the breath out of my lungs.
“What?” I whisper.
The idea is so absurd, so insulting, that for a second I can’t even process it.
Come back to him?
