Page 152 of Unlock My Heart

“Fabien, that’s not what I meant,” I say softly.

His hand rubs the back of his head. “I know you didn’t. I’m just feeling overwhelmed, trying to get a handle on all the things I’m now in charge of,” he admits.

“I have faith in you,” I encourage him.

He eyes me for a beat. “Careful, wife. That’s the second time you’ve acted like you cared.”

“I’ve always cared, Fabien.” I frown. That’s the problem.

“You don’t have to look so happy about it,” he grumbles.

Thankfully, I’m saved by the timer.

“Eat your food before it gets cold.” I present his plate and fork, busying myself with putting the containers back in the fridge.

“Thank you, baby. This smells amazing.” He twirls a bite of pasta, bringing it to his mouth on a moan. “Better than I remembered.”

It’s ridiculous, but I flush from head to toe.

“This is what I’d pick if it were my last meal.”

“That’s a bit morbid,” I inform him.

“Is it my last meal?” Fabien presses.

I freeze. “I’m sorry?”

“When does part two of your plan with Kirksey go live?”

All the oxygen has been sucked out of the room.

Fabien’s fist rattles the table. “Answer me!”

But I can’t seem to find words.

He takes his plate, flinging it against the wall before storming out.

Wait just a damn minute here! I’m the one who has the right to be angry at Fabien, not the other way around.

I chase after my husband, shouting, “You always leave someone else to clean up the mess you made!” Hating that tears are streaming down my face, I swipe angrily at them.

“You want to know what hurts the fucking most?” He spins around. “Nobody in my life has ever believed in me, except you. And now I find out it’s a charade.”

I gasp. “That’s not true⁠—”

“If you wanted revenge so damn bad, why didn’t you slit my throat? You’ve had more than your share of chances,” he spits.

“Because I still love you, and that pisses me off!” The truth of those words nearly choke me.

“Join the fucking club!”

He takes off to his room, and I take off to mine, doors slamming at the same time.

Except I’m not finished. The overwhelming desire for revenge seeps into my blood, and I have just the thing to bury Fabien once and for all.

I storm through the house to my work studio, grab the box of pads and take it to his room. Not bothering to knock, I barge right in to find him seated on the foot of his bed, still wearing his suit.

“You want to know why I tipped off your enemy?” I open the box, clutching the only reminder I have of him. “You want to know what hurts the fucking most? This.”