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“And what did you do?” I demanded. “Why did they put you in jail?”
He looked unhappy, but he answered. “They found me with guns. Unregistered guns that didn’t belong to me. Italy’s really strict about that, so…”
“What were you doing on that mission?” I demanded.
If he’d been working for China, I had to know.
I had to know if he’d thrown away everything – if he’d thrown away us – to betray my country.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said.
“It matters to me,” I snapped. “Who were you working for?”
He stood there, looking like he was wrestling with some inner struggle… like he wanted to tell me…
But in the end, he must have decided I would hate him forever if I heard the answer.
“I can’t tell you that,” he said quietly.
Bastard.
Just like Alistair said –
BASTARD.
He’d chosen money, or ideology, or something over us.
But the main thing was, he’d thrown us away.
Thrown away everything we’d had together.
Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I had to look away from him as I said, “You need to go.”
“Rachel… please…”
The plaintiveness in his voice –
The pain –
It set me off.
You don’t GET to act all hurt.
Not after what you did to ME.
I looked at him and felt all my rage break through the surface. “I said, you need to GO. NOW.”
“Rachel, it’s been three and a half years – ”
Oh, he could fucking COUNT.
“That’s right – three and a half years I thought you were DEAD or you LEFT me!”
“There was nothing I could do!” he shouted angrily.
“Well, there’s nothing I can do now,” I said, just as angry.
“Rachel, we have to talk – ”
