“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stefan said, sitting down at the table when he reached the dining room and settling his features back into their usual icy solemnity.
Why the obfuscation? He knew exactly what I was talking about. Asking me what the message was had clearly shown me his hand. On top of that, I had seen the mix of emotions that had played out on his face, even if it had lasted only a few seconds. He was involved with her, somehow. There was no denying it.
“Don’t lie to me,” I told him. “I know you know who Irina is. What’s this all about?”
“It’s not your concern,” he said. His stock reply. “Now sit and eat.”
I didn’t budge from the doorway.
“Itismy concern. You’re my fucking husband! Irina approachedme. She found me, Stefan. How many more women are going to bring me strange messages for you? How many more are going to give me secret information to deliver?”
“It won’t happen again,” he said. “And you’re going to let it drop. Now.”
“How does this not put me in even more danger than I’m already in?” I asked. “Everyone is spying on me.”
“You’re being paranoid.”
“Says the man who told me himself that this world is dangerous and that I had to let him take care of me?” I goaded. “Well, you’re doing a bang-up job of that, aren’t you?”
Rather than engage with my fury, Stefan ignored it, setting a steaming hot roll on his bread and butter plate and then one on mine. “Can you pass the butter, please?”
He was gaslighting me. Again. But I wasn’t going to just stand there and let it slide.
“If I’myours and no one else’s,” I said, throwing his own recent words back in his face, “then doesn’t that mean that you’re also mine? Doesn’t that mean I’m entitled to know what the fuck you’re doing with these mysterious women all the time?”
I was breathing hard, furious and running low on patience, but Stefan was just gazing at me impassively. He casually poured himself a glass of water. It only infuriated me more.
“Why won’t you talk to me?” I pushed.
Stefan stood and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re obviously not ready to sit down for dinner,” he said. “Just let me know when you are. I’ll be in my office until then.”
Having completely blown me off, he picked up his glass and walked out of the room.
I stared after him, ready to blow a fuse. His behavior was maddening. And I hated when he walked away from me. Hated it more than anything when he ignored me like this, completely disregarding my questions and feelings, as if running away from his wife when things got tough was a perfectly acceptable method of conflict resolution.
Following Stefan back through the foyer, down the hall, and into his office, I said, “Tell me. Tell me and I’ll never ask about her again.”
“What do you want me to say?” he asked, glancing up from his desk chair.
“I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to tell me the truth,” I said.
“There’s nothing to tell.”
He turned back toward the desk, opening his laptop.
“Why are you acting like this? I don’t understand why you won’t confide in me. I already know so much. I’m already in danger. Why not just lay it all out on the table?”
“We’re not having this discussion right now,” he said, tapping away at his computer.
Folding my arms, I said, “Then when are we having it? The secrets and the lying and the women are too much. I can’t take any more.”
“Remember what curiosity did to the cat,” he reminded me. “We’re done here.”
I was livid. But fine. If that was how he wanted to play the game, I was more than ready to play. It was time to pull out the big guns.
“You lied to me before, didn’t you?” I practically spat. “Sheisyour mistress. Did she terminate a pregnancy? Is that what “all worked out”?
He froze, his shoulders tensing as if I had thrown something at him.
