Page 25 of The Marriage

“You know why this place bothers you the most?” he asked quietly. She wouldn’t even entertain his question, never mind that he spoke in the first place, and continued to refuse to look at him, even when he uttered a low, “Karine.”

Still, nothing.

Fine, he thought.

“The truth is that you don’t want to be within a mile of a place like this because a part you knows this is what you needed a long fucking time ago. And maybe when you’re not drugged and dazed, you’ve got a little more control, babe, but that doesn’t help you deal. If Michelle gave you enough insight to understand what’s going on, then imagine what a team can do. Take the fucking label off it—stop hearing other people in your head because that’s what it is, isn’t it? You hear your father saying you’re a lunatic, or some other stupid shit. It’s not about him, okay? It’s about you.”

Karine let out a shaky exhale before asking, “I thought you said this wasn’t even about that? Earlier, that’s what you said to me. I wasn’t here for that. It’s about—”

“That’s not a lie, either.”

“But which is it—is it to keep me away from Dima and his father, or for my mental health?”

Roman threw his arms wide. “Karine, it can be both.”

“Except it wasn’t ... until you got me through the doors.”

Karine’s jaw clenched, and while her gaze remained lowered from his view, he didn’t miss the tears tracking down her cheeks. Guilt gnawed on his bones, killing him from the inside out.

Slow, and painful.

Just like he deserved.

“The thing is,” Karine said, her bottom lip trembling as she spoke, “I know I don’t get a choice in the matter, Roman, so just leave. Because you see, that’s the only choice I do get here—the very least you can do is let me make it.”

“Karine—”

“I want you to go.”

Dull and flat, her words stabbed at him. The heat of disbelief flared up the back of his neck when she still wouldn’t look at him the longer he stood there, waiting for even a goodbye. A simple bye.

Hell, a fuck you would do.

She wouldn’t even give him that.

“What, you won’t look at me now—you won’t say goodbye?” he asked, hearing the hurt in his bitter tone.

The thing he didn’t think anyone could understand about him and Karine was the fact she adored him, and he absolutely needed that. He wanted her idolization—her unyielding love just because she wanted him to be hers. She could spend her entire day staring at him in amazement, and she left him with just as much wonder. They were not exactly the kind of people who were meant to be, but damned if the universe didn’t just make it so for them both.

It probably wasn’t healthy.

Very few things he loved were.

“I want you to say goodbye to me,” he murmured, doing his best to keep the anger out of his voice.

And failing.

Miserably.

What he needed was to touch her. Wrap her in his arms, hold her tight, inhale her scent, and pray to a God he didn’t even believe existed that he’d be able to do that again someday. Just to help him last for the time they were going to be apart.

But she wouldn’t give him that, either.

He already knew it.

Her nostrils flared in rage. She shook her head once more, and the calm composure she had carefully cultivated came apart at the seams when Karine let out a screech of frustration, standing from the floor in a blur of wildly waving arms. Narrowed eyes turned on him, and for a second, he wished she wouldn’t look at him.

Not like that.