I fix him with a narrowed gaze. “It’s none of your business whether I sleep well or not.”
Agafon straightens from his casual lean, and his jaw tightens.
“You know what? I'm tired of walking on eggshells, tired of trying to figure out what I did wrong, tired of being treated like an inconvenience.” I set the water bottle down harder thannecessary. “One minute we were having an actual conversation, and the next you were looking at me like you’d rather be dead than be caught in my presence. What was that about?”
“It was nothing.” He turns away, placing his own glass in the sink. “You're imagining things.”
“Bullshit.”
He turns back, surprise flashing briefly in his eyes before his expression hardens.
“Excuse me?”
“I said bullshit.” I step closer, emboldened by frustration. “I'm not imagining things. You completely froze me out on the dance floor, and I want to know why.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, which only serves to emphasize the muscles there. I force my eyes to stay on his face.
“You’re tired. You need to go to your room and go to sleep.”
“Don't talk to me like I'm a child,” I snap.
“Then don't act like one.”
“Asking for basic respect is childish?” I laugh in what is more of a scoff. “God, you're just like my brothers sometimes. Thinking you can bark orders and everyone will just fall in line.”
His eyes narrow. “You don’t know me well enough to make that deduction.”
“No? Because from where I'm standing, you're pulling the same dickhead moves they do when they don't want to address something head-on.”
There's a tense silence as we glare at each other. I can see the muscle in his jaw working as he grinds his teeth.
“What exactly do you want from me, Lilibeth?” he finally asks.
“I want you to treat me like a person. Not an obligation, not an enemy, not a wife whose only job is to fulfil whatever duty you believe she must uphold. A person.”
I take another step closer, needing him to understand. “I didn't ask for this arrangement, but you did, and here we are. And I refuse to spend however long this lasts being treated the way you treated me tonight.”
“How I treated you tonight?” he asks, but his voice is softer, as though he’s trying to understand exactly where I’m coming from.
“Like I was nothing.” The words come out softer than I intended, revealing my hurt. I clear my throat. “One minute we're having a conversation, you're almost—almost flirting with me—”
“I wasn't flirting,” he interrupts, but there's something in his eyes that makes me think he's lying.
“Whatever it was,” I continue, “it was at least respectful. And then suddenly you're making some excuse about how we played our part and put on a solid show. People noticed, Agafon, as you refused to look at me after that. I looked like an idiot standing there, an idiot as I tried to talk to you in the car. The driver kept flicking his gaze back at us—at me.”
He's quiet for a moment, studying me. “You care too much about what others think.”
“That's not the point!” I throw my hands up in exasperation as I step even closer. “The point is, I wasn’t the only one who thought it strange, so you can’t say I’m wrong here. I won't put up with being treated like that. I didn't take it fromLion or Benedikt or Sergey or Samuil growing up, and I'm not going to take it from you now.”
“I don’t know what your brothers—”
“Don't.” I cut him off. “This isn't about them. It's about you and me and whatever this is supposed to be.” I gesture between us. “I'm tired of being told I have to 'play wife' like I'm some prop in your life. I'm a real person with real feelings, and—”
“I never thought of you as a prop,” he says, voice suddenly quiet but intense.
I falter, caught off guard by the shift in his tone.
“Then why do you act like it?” I ask, and my voice breaks as I do, as though the hurt is too much to contain. A flicker of worry crosses his eyes, and he moves toward me, cocking his head as he looks into my eyes. Suddenly, I realize there’s no more space between us. If I take one more step forward, if he takes another, we’d be skin to skin.
