He buried his face in her chest, holding her so tight, this time it was she who struggled to breathe.
“Don’t leave me.” His voice was part demand, part plea. “You can’t leave me.”
“I see right through people. I don’t like pretense. With you, it’s right there. I’ll take your hate. I’ll take your lust. I’ll take anything that’s real.”
“She wasn’t his wife—not really. This was a marriage of convenience with a time limit. He was her fake husband, and this penthouse was a prop, just like her.”
“It was the worst form of torture, to be so close to someone you cared about and be so blatantly ignored. They switched roles. Now it was Roth who slept like a baby while she’d lain there in hell. He had no nightmares and no sexual appetite. It was as if she didn’t exist.”
“I wasn’t even a factor in your decision-making! You built a life you didn’t want me to be a part of. You didn’t want children with me; you didn’t want to share a home with me.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “I can’t believe you’re still hurting me.”
“Roth grasped her hand and brought it to his mouth. To Mikhail and other observers, it looked like she was getting a kiss when he actually nipped her skin for prying.”
“Her life was a lie. Fake marriage, fake husband. Absent, resentful father who’d never wanted her and had tried to get rid of her. Had no one ever wanted her for herself?”
“Roth had shoved her to breaking point, and when she shattered, he’d comforted her. He was sick. She wasn’t sure how much more of his manipulation she could stomach.”
“You had me before I knew your name,” he said as he brushed away her tear. “You had me after you divorced me. Why do you think I was so fucking pissed?” She searched his face before venturing, “You say I belong to you.”
“You do.”
“Does that go both ways? Do you belong to me?”