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"You've never been soft for anyone else. You've never been vulnerable. Those things belong to me." He launched each jab at me without pity, hesitation, or remorse. The bastard. "They always have. They always will. You've never given the you that's mine to anyone else, and you never will. Even your lying lips can't convince me otherwise."
It was so callous, so profoundly cruel, even for him, that my breath caught at his words. It held in my chest for a few chaotic beats before I could pull it together enough to breathe again.
In, out. In, out. In, out.
Of course every word he'd said was true. That's why they hurt so much.
Finally, I found my voice to ask, "Why do you do this? What do you want from me?"
"That's a pretty silly question. I think you know."
"No. No. No, I sure as hell don't know. Whatever goes on in that manipulative brain of yours is so beyond me that I don't even try to guess anymore."
"I do this to remind you—there's no one else for you." His voice had thickened as he spoke, so rich now that it felt like a physical touch. "There's only me."
"You're such a bastard," I managed to choke out around the thick ball of hatred that had formed in my throat.
"I'm a complete and utter bastard," he agreed ruthlessly, "but you never get to stop loving me. I need you to stay incapable of moving on."
The sheer gall of him, the utter nerve . . . I was so furious I was trembling with it. "I hate you," I said, my voice ragged, the words feeling like they'd been wrenched out of me.
I hung up before he could respond.
I was so thoroughly pissed off after that that there was nothing to do but go shopping.
Because retail therapy.
I had another bad moment as I was driving through the winding mall parking lot when I spotted the huge Durant's department store sign and had a near overpowering urge to drive my car through its shiny glass doors.
It was pure hell to be a broke shopaholic with an ex whose family owned one of the biggest department store chains in the world. It was salt in the wound that I couldn't afford to shop there. Not even close.
Still, feeling contrary, I parked near the entrance, went inside, and started trying on overpriced designer dresses. I wasn't sure if it made me feel better or worse that they all looked fabulous on me.
Eventually I moved on to shoes, and that definitely made me feel better.
Someday I'll be successful, I told myself. Someday I'll be able to buy myself whatever the hell I please.
Someday I won't hate myself. Someday I won't be hung up on a guy that messes with my head for fun.
Someday I'll be rid of this weakness in my bloodstream that is my love for Dante.
By the time I'd exhausted all of my contrary shopping urges I felt decidedly better.
The magic of shoes.
I was heading back out to my car when my agent called me. With news. Amazing news. Life changing.
I was still stunned by it as I made the long, traffic-filled drive home.
Could this be it? Finally? My big break?
I was almost afraid to hope.
CHAPTER SIX
"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness."
~Friedrich Nietzsche
