“If I knew that shit was going to be part of the agreement, do you really think I would have let you sign? What else was part of the fucking agreement, Nicole? Did you fuck him too? How does one get into that kind of contract with you? Is being an asshole a requirement? Cheating on you? Being a drug addict? Treating you like shit? Tell me. Tell me because I wanna know where the fuck I’m going wrong.”
I blinked. And blinked. Trying to make the stupid tears I felt forming in my eyes go away. I swallowed the lump in my throat and swung my legs to and fro to distract myself from crying, because I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t cry.
“Tell me,” he seethed, walking over and placing his arms on either side of me, his face at a reachable distance from mine. I swallowed again.
“If those are the requirements, I’d say you fit at least two of those categories,” I whispered. His eyes widened as he stood straight and rubbed his face with both hands. “You know what? Fuck you, Victor. Fuck you for putting this on me when you pushed me to it.” I seethed, feeling hot tears burning my eyes.
“Just like I pushed you to marry him five years ago?”
I flinched again. I’d seen Victor angry. I’d seen Victor annoyed. I’d seen Victor let loose and have fun. I thought I’d seen Victor in all of his elements, but I’d never seen him like this. I wasn’t sure what to do with this version of him, so I stayed silent and let him work out his issues in front of me. If this was his ugly, I wanted to see it. I wanted to see all of him. I needed to see all of him before I could decide whether I would stay or leave. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before coming over to me again and standing in front of me, farther than before, but still close enough for me to reach out and grab him. Or slap him. I took a deep breath. Long, deep breath.
“What happened to your face?”
I hadn’t asked him when I saw him last. Whatever it was looked like it was almost healed, but the scar was still there. He let out a chuckle, although it sounded anything but amused.
“I had a difference of opinion with someone.”
“A difference of opinion . . . Care to expand on that, or are we here to keep harboring secrets?”
“I don’t know, Nicole. You tell me. You tell me what we’re harboring.”
“I flew to Argentina with Gabriel because he was going and I wanted to go see my mom. I only saw him that one day. After that I spent the rest of the time with my mom. Look at the fucking pictures. We’re wearing the same thing in all of them.” I paused, taking a breath and letting it out, trying to calm down.
“I’m here because you asked me to come. I’m here because I want to know what happened with you and my dad and your job, because the only thing I’m guilty of is helping you keep your goddamn dream alive.”
He moved closer, standing between my legs. “My dream? You don’t know anything about my dreams. You never asked me what I wanted.”
“You never asked me. You broke up with me. You broke things off because you were afraid you’d lose your precious career.”
He closed his eyes and let out a harsh breath that caressed my face.
“You made me think that us being with other people was the right thing to do, so I went and saw other people, like you did,” I added.
“I didn’t see anybody else, Nicole. All I ever saw was you.”
“I saw the way you kissed that blonde. Not Mia, but that other one, the one you took to the office party.”
He growled. “Fuck that girl.”
I tilted me head and shot him a look. “Did you?”
“No! Christ, Nicole. How could you even ask me that?”
“How could I not?” I said, my voice breaking a little. “How could I not, Victor?”
He placed his palm against my cheek and tilted my face so I could look into his eyes. “I would never do that to you. Ever. Did I kiss her? Yes. For pictures. That was all.”
“It hurt,” I said, swallowing back that damn lump of emotion. “It hurt a lot.”
His gaze fell over my features, appraising me for a long moment, and during those seconds I saw his expression thaw and his posture relax. He lowered his forehead to mine.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered. “Seeing you with Brent at the office hurt too. So did seeing you with Gabriel fucking Lane in every news outlet available while you guys were off in Argentina visiting your mom. Did you think that would be easy for me?”
“I didn’t know what to think,” I whispered. He held my face with his hand.
“It was fucking brutal,” he said, lowering his hand and setting it over the elastic corset I’d made. He tucked a finger underneath it and snapped at it. “I’m not this,” he said. “I don’t stretch. I don’t mold. I don’t conform, and despite what people say about my career, I’m not a liar. So when I tell you I’m in love with you, Nicole, it’s because I’m in fucking love with you. And when I barge into your dad’s office to tell him I’m more in love with his daughter than I’ll ever be with my career, it’s a big fucking deal.”
My heart stopped as I processed his words, and I found that no amount of swallowing or blinking was going to keep my tears at bay. He cradled my face with both hands and wiped my tears away with his thumbs.