I have my times all mixed up.
It’s almost dark again. He could have been with her all day.
He reaches out to touch my face, but I back away, out of his grasp.
“Where were you?” I ask, hating the quiver in my voice.
“Working.”
“Liar,” I choke out, feeling like the pot calling the kettle black. I have no right to call anyone a liar. None whatsoever. But I don’t care right now. I feel so foolish. While I’ve been here worrying myself over him, he’s out fucking around.
“Why do you think I’m fucking lying?”
“There’s lipstick on your collar, Mikhail.” I point to it, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Where you with one of your women?”
Why am I asking a question I already know the answer to? If you don’t want to get hurt, don’t do things that will hurt you.
I’m digging my own grave. When his face hardens and he doesn’t answer me, I do the only thing I can understand his silence to mean and accept the answer must be yes.
It shouldn’t hurt me. I shouldn’t care. I should remember this arrangement we have is a means to an end for us both, yet the tears running down my cheeks say otherwise.
They speak of my heart, and I can’t fight that.
They also speak of my rage, and suddenly, my hand flies up and connects hard with his cheek.
“Bastardo,” I cry. “I hate you. Te odio diablo,” I shout, telling him I hate him in Spanish and calling him the devil.
The sky cracks open as I rush away from him.
But I don’t get very far.
I thought I might this time because I didn’t expect him to come after me.
That’s my mistake. Not only did I strike him, but I defied him. That means punishment. The sadistic bastard will use the opportunity to punish me.
He secures a hand around my waist and yanks me against him.
“Let go of me,” I yelp, kicking against him.
“Fucking stop it.”
“Leave me alone. I hate you.”
The falling rain quickly turns the ground slippery, and my kicks and thrashing send us both to the ground.
He reaches for me and moves himself on top of me, pinning my hands above my head to stop me from moving.
“I didn’t cheat on you,” he growls.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I didn’t.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m a business transaction, remember?” My tears pour and fuse with the raindrops on my face. “So, it’s not real. We’re not real. I’m not really your wife, so you can fuck anyone you want.”
“I didn’t cheat on you, Adriana,” he grates out in a firmer voice. Hearing that name makes me snap. I keep forgetting I’m supposed to be her. He hasn’t called me that name since we took our vows, and now that he’s said it, I want to scream at him and tell him I’m not Adriana Alvarez.
“I was at a bar, drinking. I switched my phone off because I needed some time to myself. That’s why no one could reach me,” he continues. “A waitress I know propositioned me. That’s how the lipstick got on my collar. I said no and left. I was on my way back to work when I heard Ivan was on his way here. Now I’m here. That’s the truth.”
