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Me: So that makes it okay?
Our photo appears on the screen again. I send the call to voicemail.
Riggs: Nothing between us was a lie. I've always been honest about how I feel about you.
My tears drip off my chin as the message blurs. How can I ever believe that again?
Riggs: Pet, I love you. You know this.
His statement is a knife twisting deep into my heart. I can't think about if we were real or not anymore. The hurt spirals out of control, and I don't want to end my communication with him, but I can't keep discussing what he claims are his feelings for me. So I change the subject.
Me: Why didn't you use the flogger on me?
Riggs: When?
Me: When we were here.
Riggs: Why did you choose Apartment Thirteen?
Me: Don't change the subject.
Riggs: You should come to the L.A. apartment or return to the beach house. It's where you belong, not Apartment Thirteen.
Me: Why? I'm not good enough to be here?
Riggs: Why would you say that? You're too good to be there.
Me: Answer my question. Why didn't you use it on me?
Riggs: You didn't need it.
Me: Answer me honestly, for God's sake.
Riggs: I just did.
Me: I don't believe you.
Riggs: I'm coming over, pet.
My heart pounds so hard it makes me dizzy. I almost don't reply, wanting so badly to wait for him to show up at the door. But it's wrong. I know I'll regret it tomorrow if I let what he did slide.
Me: No, you aren't coming over.
Riggs: I'll be there in ten minutes.
My heart races faster.
Me: You're not in Malibu? You're in L.A.?
Riggs: Of course I'm in L.A. I'm not leaving the city until you're with me.
Me: Go back to Malibu.
As soon as I send it, I cringe. Thinking about him at the beach house without me aches.
Riggs: You're my wife. I'm not going anywhere when you're here.
His wife.I squeeze my eyes and tap my hand on my thigh, my heart swooning in the way Riggs always makes it while also reprimanding myself for reacting to his words.
