Seven years ago.
A week after we broke up.
I’d caused her stress and pain and heartbreak. There was no way I could do that to her again.
“Telling her the truth would only hurt her.” More than I already did.
Hasan shook his head in resignation. “A month ago, she was ready to tell you she loved you but insteadyoupushed her away.”
How the fuck did he know about that?
His chest rose and fell. “Ever since you came back into her life, all she sees is you.”
A sharp pang tore through me.
I’d been so fucking blind if I was the only who didn’t notice.
“This isn’t her burden to bear,” I said with no room for argument.
“Since when is that your choice to make?” He raised abrow, “It’s about her and her family. Who are you to decide it’s too much for her?”
“Herhusband,” I clarified. “And as her husband, I’ll decide what’s best for her.”
“As you wish.” Hasan pressed his lips in a tight, thin line. “But one of the main points of being married is to be able to share those burdens with yourwife.”
I stayed silent because else could I fucking do with him staring at me like that?
“I get it. You think you can only have one or the other, that’s why you’re pushing her away.” He studied me, tearing apart the hundreds of masks I kept in place with pure fucking insanity.
His prediction was unnervingly accurate.
Hasan tugged at his ear, sympathy in his gaze. “You can have both the girl and get revenge.”
“How?” The question came out on an impulsive whim. “I’ll be caught dead before fucking sharing this with her.”
He stood, shaking his head at me as if there was nothing more, he could say to make me listen. At least he got that right. He grabbed the half-full glass and slid it over, his eyes heavy and strained, locked onto mine.
“The truth’s heavy right now, but the longer you keep it hidden, the more it’ll start feeling like a lie. Like all lies, it’ll come out.”
Here I thought he’d give me an actual fucking answer, but we were back to square one.
Hasan gave me the briefest smiles when he realized I wasn’t going to give him a fucking answer. “Make sure you attend the gala tonight with her in your arms and not with her walking in front of you like last time.”
The bastard.
The amber liquid burned my throat as I forced the burn down my throat.
Tonight’s event was important.
Tonight, I’d see if Hasan was right.
If it really was possible to get revenge and be happy with Adelaide too.
Pacing backand forth in front of Adelaide’s door, I hesitated to knock on it. If she didn’t walk out in the next five minutes, we’d be late.
It’d be rude for me to show up late since I was a guest speaker.
I bet she did this on purpose—knowing how much I fucking hated being late to events.
