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But you already suffered, something in her contradicted.For him. And happily.
“What about my life is a disaster?” she made herself ask. And she even smiled. “I have more social media followers than most celebrities.”
Because she couldn’t help but poke at the wound. Because it wasn’t bad enough that she’d woken up feeling safe and at peace, and it was ruined. He’d made an offhand comment to her two years ago and it had changed everything. She’d done nothing but think about him, all this time, and it had all led here. Where she was inviting him to make further cutting commentary, and...then what?
Did she really want to let him haunt her all over again? And probably worse this time?
“I’ve seen both sides of you now,” he said quietly, his gaze so intense it made herhurt. “And the woman I met last night was extraordinary. I spent hours this morning trying to reconcile her with this show you put on. You’re doing it right now. Why is getting attention the only thing that matters to you?”
“Because it’s the only way I matter to anyone.”
She said it without thinking. And instantly wished that she could claw those words back, shove them inside her mouth. Chew them up, swallow them down.
Her chest was heaving, and for a split second, Erika honestly and truly wished that she would die right there. Just keel over onto his kitchen floor, and be done with this.
Because surely that was better than suffering through that intent look on his face that she was certain would tip over into pity at any moment.
But it didn’t.
“Bullshit,” he said. Succinctly.
She felt it like one of those blows he’d rained on her ass last night. Sharp, shocking. Then the sharpness changed, into a dull ache that was almost worse.
When she had been naked before him, her hands behind her back and completely in his control, she hadn’t felt this exposed.
“You’re afraid,” he told her, his gaze steady on hers, though his voice was soft.
“Oh, please,” she threw at him, and it didn’t seem to matter anymore that she felt so...ruined. Ripped open, with the stuffing removed and no hope of ever shoving it all back into place.What the hell, she thought. “You should talk.”
“Me?” Dorian laughed, and it stunned her that she feltso many thingsand he seemed...fine. Just having a conversation while her world was on fire. “Little girl, flailing around throwing out accusations isn’t going to change the facts. You live a useless life by choice. I do not.”
“Of course not. My mistake. I thought this was supposed to be an honest conversation, not a self-congratulatory stump speech about how virtuous you are, when I’m standing right here, have known you for far too long and certainly know better.”
“I talked to your brother earlier,” Dorian said. Calmly.
Casually, even.
“Wh-what?”
“Conrad is getting married, Erika,” Dorian told her in the same unbothered tone, though his gaze stayed on hers. “He got engaged last night and his soon-to-be in-laws are throwing them a party. In England at the end of the month.”
Erika made herself laugh, though it felt like cut glass in her mouth. “Who would actually marry Conrad?”
And she felt a trickle of something like foreboding as Dorian studied her. For much too long.
“Lady Jenny,” Dorian said. He waited, and Erika was sure he couldseethat name fall through her like a sickening stone. “But you know her, do you not?”
Jenny Markham had been on Erika’s stair at Oxford when they were first years. They’d become fast friends, had spent their summers together, texted regularly and always got together when they found themselves in the same place. Given that the last text Erika had gotten from Jenny had been a week ago, with no mention of Conrad whatsoever, Erika was skeptical—to say the least—about this news.
But Dorian, who had not looked at her pityingly yet, seemed to be doing so now.
“Of course I know Jenny,” Erika said stiffly.
“Here’s what I need to know,” Dorian said quietly. “Is there any possibility that you can attend their engagement party and be supportive of your brother? And your friend? Or will it be business as usual for you, instead?”
People had thought very, very little of her all her life. There was nothing new in it. Nothing shocking.
But Erika found that further evidence of Dorian thinking the same as everyone else just made her want to sit down on the floor and cry.
