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Immediately I saw his shoulders drop like I’d taken away hope. “It’s not her.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that is not Sabina. She is always discrete.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Really? Is that why all of the newspapers were reporting on your past with her for months?”
“They reported because Ambrose leaked it, not her. Sabina wouldn’t dare.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Plus, she thinks there may be a chance between us, so she wouldn’t do anything to ruin that. I know it.”
Now I was pissed.
Grabbing one of the pillows, I threw it at his head and yanked the sheets before tossing them at him, too.
“What are you doing?”
“Go sleep on the couch!” I snapped at him, pointing to the piece of furniture in the corner.
He looked at it, then me, mouth agape. “You cannot be serious right now.”
“Try me.”
“Odette.”
“Either you go, or I will go sleep in the side room. And if that happens, everyone will think I am angry with you.”
“Isn’t making me sleep on the couch proof that you are angry with me?” he called back. “And I don’t even know why?”
“You don’t know why?” I repeated, mocking him. “You didn’t see how you completely dismissed my thought because you know Sabina so well, then you smile at the idea of her waiting to be your mistress.”
“I scoffed, not smiled, because it is a ridiculous thought on her part.”
“And how would you know what her thoughts would be like if you haven’t spoken to her for months?”
“I have known her for years…”
“So are you saying people don’t change? Then doesn’t that mean by default she knows you, too? And you haven’t changed then. Which is why she is not giving up!”
His mouth dropped open. “Odette!”
“Couch!” I pointed again.
He sighed angrily, grabbing the pillow and the sheets with him. Yanking my own pillow, I laid on my side and turned off the lights, pulling the covers up to my neck.
“Good night!” he called over to me, but I ignored him, closing my eyes.
I tried to force myself to sleep, but I was still angry and wanted to throw more pillows at him…and the thought of him sleeping gently while I was mad made me even angrier. But I didn’t want to turn the light on and see if he was sleeping because I worried I would look crazy. So I just laid there watching the time pass by.
“Are you sleeping?” he asked after half an hour.
“Yes,” I lied, happy to know he was unable to sleep, either.
He was silent for a little longer before he spoke again. “This afternoon, I promised your mother I wouldn’t hurt you and here I am on the couch.”
I frowned, not wanting to talk to him. But my mom seemed to be talking to a lot of people. “You spoke to my mom today? I didn’t hear that.”
“I told no one to tell you.”
“Why?”
