I stare at her in disbelief, wondering how I came from this woman. But it makes things clearer for me. It makes my choices easier.
I have to get out.
Present Day
My eyes dart open, scared awake by a nightmare… or a memory. It’s hard to keep track of which is which anymore.
Light sneaks through the half-open blinds. In the distance, fog rolls between the mountain peaks.
I glance to the bed. The top half of Leo’s body is exposed, the sheet wrapped around his waist. The dawn light catches his muscles in all the right places. He looks like a sculpture. A masterpiece.
I could walk over there and kill him while he sleeps. I could… but I won’t.
Not simply because I’m starting to believe it would be impossible to go through with it. But also because, underneath all the bitterness and anger, I know I couldn’t take a life. Much less his life.
He rolls onto his back, and my heart rate picks up. My body’s reaction to him is maddening. Even now, I imagine walking over to him, letting him pin me to the bed. Writhing in delicious agony as he steals another little piece of my soul.
But I can’t afford to lose any more of me. I need to be strong.
For my son.
For myself.
I twist on the sofa and turn my back on him, then shut my eyes and try to find solace in the unreal.
When I wake again, several hours have passed. The bed is empty and Leo is gone. A breakfast tray waits for me by the window seat. I didn’t even notice the maid come and go.
I eat and then spend the morning doing push-ups, pull-ups, crunches, and burpees. I do whatever I can to stay fit, but also burn off the agitation that tickles under my skin.
I find myself looking forward to dinner, to the simple act of leaving this room behind and walking downstairs. I try to tell myself it has nothing to do with Leo, but I’m past the point of lying to myself.
As soon as my door is unlocked, I get dressed. I opt for ripped jeans and a white sweater. Nothing sexy this time. I’m done participating in the games.
I head for the dining room, but I stop short when I notice that there’s only one person sitting at the table tonight. Just my luck.
She’s dressed in dark trousers and a cashmere halter in powder blue. Her blonde hair has been piled in a messy bun at the top of her head. As usual, she looks stunning.
“Where’s Leo?”
She smiles without looking at me. “Working. You’ll have to make do with me tonight.”
“Are you supposed to be my babysitter?”
She shrugs. “I’m just hungry.”
I hesitate, but I’m not backing down in front of her. I walk carefully around the table and sink into the open seat.
“Wine?” she asks, raising the bottle.
“No.”
“Really? It’s excellent.”
“I’m not much of a drinker.”
“Right,” she says, with a nod. “I get that.”
“What exactly do you get?”
“Well, you saw your husband act like a drunk fool all the time,” she says. “That must have turned you off of the stuff.”
I glare at her. “First of all, he’s my ex-husband. And secondly, I’ll thank you not to make assumptions about me or my life. Just because you know a few random facts about me doesn’t mean you know me.”
“Oh dear. Touched a nerve, have I?”
She knows damn well she has, but she’s getting off on goading me. Another thing that she and Leo have in common. They really are made for each other.
“We may be having dinner together, but that doesn’t mean we have to talk.”
“I don’t do well with silence,” she says.
“Why is that?”
She looks up at me. “It’s easier to hear the voices in my head when it’s quiet.”
I raise my eyebrows. For the first time, she isn’t smiling. Isn’t smirking or putting on a show. I think she’s serious.
But I don’t care.
“Well, I have nothing to say to you.”
“Are you sure?” Brit asks. “Because the look on your face tells me you have a few things you’d like to get off your chest.”
“I’m fine. This isn’t a therapy session.”
She laughs. “Pity. I would’ve made a great therapist.”
“I think you’ve got that backwards. You’re the ideal patient.”
“We’ve all got our issues.”
I shake my head. “No. No. We’re not doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“Having a conversation like we’re… like we’re friends or something.”