“That’s not true.” I feel his swallow against my neck. “I wasn’t thinking about you.”
My laugh? A dry sob. “I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse.”
“How could I care? I didn’t know you. You were just a means to an end.”
“A means to revenge. Did you love her?” My question is a desperation I regret immediately. But we like to hurt ourselves, don’t we? Pick at those wounds and those scabs.
“No. There was no love on either side. No white-hot fury when I found them together. I wasn’t a jealous lover spurned. They just ruined my plans.”
“For Daisy.”
“Yes. I couldn’t think of losing her.”
“Was it like this with her—like it is with us?”
My shirt rustles with the shake of his head. “Nothing could be like this. Nothing could’ve prepared me for you, for my feelings.”
“Remember in the beginning when I said you should marry Tod? I was wrong. You should’ve married Celine. She’s the one who should be suffering.”
He bleeds my name as he turns me to face him and pulls me into his lap. Idiot that I am, I let him. Bury my face in his shirt as I whisper, “Tell me.”
His chest expands, then contracts, before his words softly flow. “I couldn’t marry Celine, not because I was hurt, but because of the court process. I needed a relationship that looked stable. Committed. I was so pissed that I’d have to start all over again, worried I wouldn’t have time. But then I learned Brin hadsisters, so I thought why not? This is partly his fault. Why not kill two birds with one stone?”
“Is this where I’m supposed to tweet?”
“When I came into the gallery, I didn’t know you. I didn’t care about you—why should I care? But the attraction was instant for me, even if it wasn’t for you.”
That’s not quite true, but I refuse to pay him that compliment.
“So you set Tod up.”
“Tod was stupid enough to do the rest himself. Then you walked into my office and doomed yourself.”
“I feel like such an idiot. You’ve done that to me.”
“I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
“It’s strange how intent doesn’t make the pain any less. You need to talk to your lawyer. He’s a cockhead. But I think he might also be a cokehead.” I blow out a breath. “I went to see him about Daisy. You’ll have to ask her to explain it all to you. She needs some help at school.” If it was possible to feel any more wretched about not putting her first, I think I would. “Thanks for the money, by the way. You’ll be getting it back.” Pitching forward, I pull away from him, crawling from his arms.
“The money is yours.”
“Because I earned it?” I throw back, still on my knees. I feel drained, wrung out, as I use the drawers to pull myself upright, then dust off my skirt.
“Because it’s yours. I was going to tell you tonight.”
“I can’t do this,” I say, staring at my open suitcase. But because I’m me, and because my anger begins to resurface, I kick it closer to the dresser, then use my arm to clear the top, toppling bottles and compacts, lotions and potions into the case.
Tugging on the first drawer, I pull out handfuls of underwear, throwing them in next. T-shirts. Jeans. Socks. Dresses ripped from hangers and dropped to the floor.
And all the while, Raif just sits, his back straight and pressed against the closet door, his legs outstretched. Maybe he’s watching. I don’t know. I can’t look at him.
Because I’ll only bawl my eyes out.
“Fuck it.” I let out an unsteady breath. “Just… get someone to pack it for me. I’ll get Tod to pick it up.” I step around his legs—out of his reach.
“Don’t leave.”
“How can I not?” I say as I reach the doorway. “I opened my heart to you, peeled back my ribs. Exposed all my secrets, my shame, and my heartache. But you didn’t do the same.”
