“So are you.”
I laugh, sharp and broken, finding it hard to believe what I’m hearing from this man. This is surreal, it’s like talking to a wall. Ethan has no fucking comprehension of emotion or fucking manners.
“You talk like you’re collecting rare antiques. You’ve never treated me like a person, only an object. Something to add to a collection.”
I watch as his gaze darkens, briefly wondering how far I can push this.
“You think I don’t know what I’mdoing?” he asks quietly. “You think obsession is lack of control? This is restraint, Leo. This is me being careful with you.”
“I didn’t choose you.”
“You’re wrong, and you know you’re wrong.”
He pushes the deck toward me.
“Choose.”
“This is insane,” I mutter in disbelief, my hands trembling under the table.
“Draw.”
I scowl at him before I stare at the cards like they are the ones doing this to me. My chest feels too tight to breathe, my throat so dry it’s hard to swallow.
“You stacked the deck, I can’t trust you,” I say.
“Probably.”
“That’s not fair, this whole thing is not fucking fair.”
“Neither is your life, now fucking draw.”
The words cut too close to home and I hate him for being so blunt, so cruel. He doesn’t care if he hurts me, or breaks me down. He only cares about his end goal.
I think of Sarah. The apartment. The arguments. The long silences. The way I disappear in my own home as I float off into my mind. It’s a prison of pure torment.
Then I look at Ethan and think of his voice in the dark. The way he sees me like something singular. It terrifies and weakens me because I get some weird kind of kick out of it. He has made my mind a bowl of confusion. I don’t know what to do, or how to think. I can’t sleep because all I can think about is him, and how good it felt to be with him. How I hate how he controls my life, how he thinks he can just take what he wantswithout a thought of my feelings, without respecting me.
I sigh in defeat as I look down at the cards. What’s the point in fighting with him, he always wins with his words of steel. So I give in and draw a card.
Two of spades. My stomach drops as I look over at him. Cool and collected like he expected it, he then draws one. King of hearts. Motherfucker.
I grab the pack of cards in front of him. All of them are low cards. I had no chance, he must’ve hidden or snuck in the high card. Anger swells to the point I don’t understand how I’m still breathing. I’m so stupid. This is Ethan. I should’ve checked the deck before playing.
“You cheated,” I hiss at him, ready to lunge over the table at him.
“Yes.”
“You promised I could leave when you knew it wasn’t possible.”
“And you were naive enough to believe me.”
I stand so fast the chair falls backward.
“You planned this. You planned all of it.”
“I plan everything, have you not been paying attention?”
“You’re sick,” I say with such disgust, my head feels like it will explode. But Ethan doesn’t care. Instead he rises slowly, unhurried in his movements.
