“Yes.”
“So what exactly do you think this is?”
“A truce.”
She almost laughed again. “This isn’t a truce. This is a hostage situation with paperwork.”
“Call it what you want.”
“I will.”
Her shoulders rose and fell slowly as she steadied herself.
“You have ruined my life,” she said quietly.
“Only temporarily.”
Her head snapped toward me. “You’re unbelievable.”
“This is containment.”
“This is madness.”
“Maybe.”
She crossed her arms again, as if holding herself together.
“What happens now?” she asked, already thinking ahead.
“Now,” I said calmly, “we present unity.”
She let out a disbelieving breath. “You think I’m going to play along in this absurd game of yours? I am nothing but a hostage here, and I am not even going to pretend to act any other way.”
“You will have to play along.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You will.”
She turned fully to face me.
“Try to control me again,” she said softly, “and you’ll discover exactly how dangerous I can be.”
A slow, almost imperceptible smile touched my mouth.
“I’m counting on it.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“I don’t love you,” she said.
“I know.”
“And I definitely don’t even trust you.”
“I know.”
“And I will never forgive you.”
