Then again, that was as good a way to start as any.
His body in the subdued lighting of elegant sconces glowinglow on their dimmers visibly tightened.
“I’m sorry?”he asked quietly.
“I’m leaving,” I repeated.
“You’re…leaving,” he said slowly.
“I…uh, yeah.”
“Why?”
I didn’t answer that.
I said, “It’d be nice if you texted me a time when I couldcome back and get my stuff and arrange for someone to let me into yourpenthouse.”
The air in the room changed.
I ignored it.
“Why?”he repeated, sounding more terse, in other words,demanding.
“I just really need to go.Now,” I told him.
“Without telling me why?”he pushed.
I knew it wasn’t fair.It wasn’t right.
But I guessed I didn’t have in me what I needed to have inme to do this fair and right.
Not even for Marcus.
Because I was leaving Marcus.
“Can we just please make this easy?”I requested.
“You wish to come back and get your stuff.This indicatesyou’re leaving and not coming back.Except to collect your things.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Why?”
I swallowed.
“Did something happen?”he asked.
I shook my head.
“Then why?”
“Marcus, please.”
“Tell me…”
And then I jumped when he completely lost it and I’d neverseen Marcus lose it, not ever, and definitely not with me.
He did this leaning toward me and shouting, “Why?”
