“That’s not what I?—”
“I love you, Hunter. And I would never question you like that.” My voice cracks, but I refuse to cry. Not now. “I trust you. I married you in a courthouse after knowing you for weeks because I believed you when you said I was your soulmate. I fought to see you when you were in jail. I-I thought this was my home. Not that I was pretending.”
I press my hand against my chest because it hurts. “And you’re standing there telling me I’m playing house? That this is a phase?” I shake my head. “You sound exactly like my parents, Hunter. Exactly like them. And I didn’t leave New York to be told what I’m feeling by another person who thinks they know me better than I know myself. Just because your ex couldn’t just fuck one man, doesn’t mean we all behave like that.”
He opens his mouth.
“Don’t.” I hold up my hand. “Don’t say another word.”
I look down at my left hand. The engagement ring. The wedding band. His mother’s diamond catches the morning light.
My hands are shaking as I pull them off. I am furious. But worse, I’m hurt.
One ring. Then the other.
The sound they make when I set them on the nightstand is small and louder than anything either of us has shouted.
Hunter’s face drains of color. “Lola. Don’t. Please.”
I shake my head. “Did that hurt?” I snap.
“Please don’t take them off and leave me, firefly,” he says, his voice full of regret.
“I love you, Lola. I’m sorry.”
He takes another step forward, and I take one back, holding up my hand. “You can keep your private jet,” I say, shoving on a dress I snatch from the chair. “And your opinions about my life choices.”
I shove my feet into sneakers and grab the bag I packed last night from the corner of the room.
“Lola, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
“Yes, you did. And maybe you’re right. Maybe I am just playing house.” I sling the bag over my shoulder. I don’t mean it. But I’m furious. Maybe slightly triggered. Just like he is.
He’s worried about the other men there. And I’m worried that I’ll go away for one night and come back to an empty bed because my husband is either in jail or dead.
“Guess you’ll find out when I either come back, or I don’t.”
The hurt on his face almost breaks me. Almost.
I stop by the door and take a deep breath. No matter what, I still love this man. And for Wyatt’s sake, too, I can’t walk out of here like this. “Hunter, I’m asking you to do one thing for me now.”
He nods.
“Just let me have some breathing space. I’ll get a flight by myself. My own arrangements to my apartment. Don’t call me. I’ll text you when I land. Just maybe take some time to cool off and think about what’s happening here. Because, if you cannot trust me, if you really think you don’t deserve me, then perhaps we need to have a conversation later.”
He runs his hands through his hair, a ragged sigh falling out of him. “If that’s what you need, baby.”
I nod. “It is.”
He glances at the rings on the bedside table and almost flinches.
“I’m still your wife, Hunter.” But I’ve spent my whole life bending for people who don’t trust me. I refuse to do it for one more.
“I know. I’m sorry, Lola. I’m sorry I said that. Let me take you to the airport?”
I almost say yes. But I just need to leave. I don’t want to keep arguing with him. I don’t want either of us to say anything worse than we already have. “No. Just go back to bed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”