Page 110 of True Colors

“F-fear doesn’t ex-excuse t-taking someone’s work…h-handing it to her because th-they sound b-better.”

His eyes shine. “I didn’t mean to steal from you.”

“B-but you did,” I protest. “You c-cr-credited Erin with my work. You e-erased me. And you did it kn-knowing how hard it is for m-me to take space.”

I think he’d have looked less stricken if I’d slapped him.

No mercy, Anouk. If you let him in again, he’ll crush you. You’re not that strong.

“I love you, Anouk.” His voice is a whisper, not seductive but fraught.

I move back, push against the wall.

How long have I waited for someone besides Finn to say those words to me? Forever. And I thought I would never hear them. No one would love me like Finn. No one.

But then I met Luther, and I thought…dreamed.

He’s saying the words now, but they’re hollow.

Finally, rage replaces pain.

“You don’t get to say you love me when you kicked me out,” I shout. “If you can’t accept all of me at work, you don’t get me in private.”

There’s something about the edge of fury that makes the stutter vanish. Hallelujah!

“I know,” he says hoarsely. “And I’m not asking you to forgive me. I’m asking you to…give me a chance to make it right.”

Heat surges up my spine. “You want me to give you a chance? When you didn’t do me that decency?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck you,” I yell. “Why should I?”

“Because you’re a better person than me.”

We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity until Finn’s amused voice breaks through. “Well, she isn’t crying, but she’s angry as all get out.”

I send him a withering look and then shoot that same spark Luther’s way. He deserves it.

“I have zero faith in you as a man and a leader,” I throw at him.

He closes his eyes and then opens them.

They’re haunted. I refuse to feel bad.

“I’m going to work very hard to be better at both, Anouk. But…please don’t quit and don’t⁠—”

I jab his chest with a finger. “Quit? I’m not quitting.” Okay, so my voice is now really high and not in that squeaky way. It’s more fire and brimstone. “I like my job. I’m good at it. I won’t let you run me off.”

He grabs my finger, holds it. “I want you to stay”—he squeezes my finger before letting go—“forever.”

The nerve!

I flip him off. “Go f-fuck y-yourself, L-luther G-grant.”

Damn it! I’m less angry now, so I’m tripping over my words.

Luther’s about to say something when Finn comes to stand next to me, his arm wraps around me. “Time’s up, bud.”