I could hardly stand to even guess it.
And I could not take it. Could not take another day with her doing this to herself.
I joined her out on the balcony, loosening my tie as I moved.
She started when I opened the door, turning to me.
She schooled her face when she realized she wasn't alone, but I'd seen it, every last ounce of the despair still written on her.
I held out my arms to her, but she wouldn't even take that.
She shook her head, turning back to stare out at the night.
"Don't be like that, tiger," I teased her, pressing myself against her back, mouth at her ear.
She was in no mood to be teased. "Listen," she said, voice tense and brittle. "I'm not saying this to pick a fight, but sometimes I just need to be alone. I don't want to be comforted. I just want to be alone."
That was foreign and wrong. "Not anymore. That's not what we're doing. We never used to hide things from each other, and we're not going to do that now. If you have a burden, you share it with me. We take the weight together. That's how this works. Whatever's troubling you, we'll get through it."
"No," she said, and I could feel the way her shoulders set stubbornly against me. "I'm in no mood, Dante. Not right now."
Just as she could stir my desire with a glance, she knew how to invoke my temper just as quickly. There was an edge to my words as I responded, "Yes, I know. You prefer being alone. Let's try anyway."
"You don't know," she said, her voice soft. "You really have no idea."
Soft or hard, it was the last fucking straw. I was tired of hearing it, the same words spoken for different reason, all with a meaning known only to her. I was sick of her saying it, but even more sick of her using it as a shield against me. "What don't I know? Let's have it. About the men? I know about every single one. And frankly, if there's something that could hurt me more than them I can't imagine it."
That set her off. Of course it did. It was unfair of me to mention it, even if it was only the absolute truth.
She shrugged me off, moving a few angry strides away to glare. "What about you? Do you really have the nerve to go there? You were no saint when we were apart."
To tell or not to tell. Which thing was more hurtful? More lies or the savage, unbelievable truth?
"A saint? No. Of course not. Not for a day in my life." I took a very deep breath, let it out. This was going to be bad, but I was done dealing with her in lies. "But there were no other women." I rolled my tongue around my mouth and added, "Not one."
Simple. Complex. Hurtful.
She sent me a look that was as crushed as it was disbelieving. "What? What are you saying? I saw you. I fucking saw you! What the fuck are you talking about?" She was close to screaming by the end.
Even as she questioned me, I saw that she was starting to understand it, to believe.
"Everything with Tiffany was fake. Part of the arrangement I made with my mother. I agreed to a six-month engagement with her to keep you out of prison, but it was a ridiculous failure. I never so much as kissed her. I agreed to those pictures for the same reason, but it was all fake. I never touched her beyond what you saw.
She was backing away from me, hands in her hair, pulling.
She looked deranged and completely heartbroken.
I couldn't stand it. For every step she retreated, I advanced. We would get this out so we could work past it. It was as simple as it was hurtful, and I was determined to get it done. To put it behind us, if that were possible.
"Liar," she said, voice weak, tears running down her face.
I just stared at her for a beat, two, letting her see in my face my absolute sincerity. "I've told plenty of lies. I can't deny that. But I promise you I'm not lying about this."
She pointed a shaking finger at me. "Tiffany was one. One. I saw the others, too. Woman after woman you paraded in front of me. You think I forgot? You think I'd forget even one of them?"
I winced. It was a stretch to say I didn't have a lot of things to be ashamed of, but that petty revenge had been the most selfish. "Fake. All of them. I took them out, made sure you saw. Took them home. I was a perfect gentleman with every single one. You thought I'd betrayed you in the worst, most unthinkable way. You had an excuse for the things you did. And, while I was angry enough to want to hurt you, I could never make myself betray you fully. Not like that."
She studied my face, eyes moving desperately over every inch, seeking a lie, almost hoping for it.
She didn't find one.
I was closer by then, but that didn't work in my favor.
She lost her mind. Hitting, scratching, attacking me with blind determination and absolute abandon.
It was awful. I had to subdue her bodily, carry her inside. I pinned her struggling to the bed because I thought that she might hurt herself.
I was holding her down, trying to calm her, my voice soothing, as composed as I could manage.