How massive and twisted is this web of lies?
The urge to vomit slams through me again, stronger than before.
“This can't be real.” My voice doesn't sound like my own. I'm someone else, someone who isn't here, living this moment, becausethis can't be real. “He wouldn't have done this without telling me. He wouldn't have put this mark on my body. He doesn't want to use me—helovedme. You're wrong.”
Reave doesn't say anything to this. He just slowly turns back to his wardrobe and continues to dress for the day,going through the motions. An attempt to stay calm, to keep up his usual stoic and steady demeanor.
I understand it.
I usually do the same thing when the world tilts, after all; one foot in front of the other, all the way to the end of the road, even when that road is breaking and crumbling and going up in flames.
But for some reason, the attempted normalcy just makes me furious.
I'm tired of pretending things are okay when every hour brings some fresh new horror with it.
“You're lying.” I fold the letter over and over, my hands shaking as I make one tight, angry crease after another, like I could make it small enough that it couldn't hurt me. “You're a liar, Reave Callahan. You always have been, and you're lying right now. This is all some ridiculous scheme you've come up with, and I'm not…”
He stops in the middle of buttoning his shirt and looks up at me, his gaze steady and patient and unbearably devoid of the mischievous trickery I want to find in it.
I know he's not lying.
I still shake my head, swallowing hard. “I'm not falling for it.”
I don't know where I'm going—I'm still in my damn night clothes—but I don’t care; I storm toward the door, suddenly desperate to be anywhere but here, doing anything but accepting any part of this latest horrible truth.
Reave moves faster, blocking my exit.
“Get out of my way,” I snarl.
His steady expression doesn't change.
Anger swells until it fills every inch of me, and I'm swinging for his face before I even realize I'm doing it. It's anexhausted, feeble attempt. He easily catches my fist and holds it away from him.
“Let go of me!”
He only grabs my other arm, immobilizing me further.
“Let go!”
“No. Not until you promise me you aren't going to run off and do something foolish.”
“Like what? What could I possibly do?” My voice cracks, and my heart feels like it's in danger of following its lead, splintering into sharp pieces that cause a terrible stabbing pain in my chest. “What am I supposed to do about this?”
Reave's grip softens, relaxing and drawing me inward rather than holding me at bay. And I want to stay there. Oh, howbadlyI want to just stay there and bury my face against him and never look up again.
But I can't.
“How long have you known?” I ask, my voice still fraying at the edges.
“I told you…I only had suspicions before now.”
“And you didn't think I would want to be informed of those suspicions?”
“Arowyn—”
“No more secrets, you said.” I draw back, forcing myself to look him in the eyes. “This counts as a fucking secret, Reave.”
He sighs. “I wanted to be sure before I said anything. I wasn't going to put you through this if there was no reason for it.”
