He finished chewing his food before he raised his chin and looked at me. “I’m a simple man, Arwen. My requirements are small. Just don’t fuck with me, and we won’t have any problems. But you did fuck with me…and now I’ve got so much shit to deal with. I won’t sweep that under the rug and forget about it.”
“I understand…but maybe eventually you will.”
His eyes were so cold. “The only reason I changed my mind was because I knew what would happen to you if I let you go. You wouldn’t have lasted a week. Kamikaze probably would have found you first—and raped you.”
My lungs deflated in fear.
“So, I let you stay…because you didn’t deserve that. It doesn’t mean I like you. It doesn’t mean I forgive you. It doesn’t mean I want anything to do with you. It just means that I didn’t want you to be raped and murdered. Don’t take it too personally.” He pushed his plate away and grabbed his coffee.
“I do take it personally. You’ve been there for me in the past, and you’re still here for me now. That means a lot to me. I want you to know I’ll always be there for you…whatever you need.”
He drank from his mug and ignored my offer. “I have a dinner party tomorrow night. You’re coming with me.”
The change in subject was so sudden, it nearly gave me whiplash. “What’s this dinner party for?”
“It’s one of my clients, a ridiculous social affair. I have to do them from time to time, and I have to take my wife along. Abigail picked out a dress for you. Just be ready by five.”
Maybe spending time with Maverick could repair some of the damage. Maybe we could be close again, be friends again. “I have a performance tomorrow night…but I’ll have my understudy take care of it. “
“You have a performance tonight as well?”
“Yes…you should come.” Maverick had seen my show months ago, but we’d changed a few songs to keep it fresh. It would be nice to see him in the audience, to see him support my passion like a real husband.
He took another drink of his coffee then stood up.
“Do you think things will settle down with your father?” Was he still intent on killing me? Was he still enemies with Maverick? If we gave it enough time, would that problem subside?
He gripped the back of the chair as he looked at me, his eyes like two lasers. He had masculine knuckles, cords in his neck because his body was so tight. His dark hair was styled and ready for the day, making him deadly handsome. “He’s my problem—not yours.”
When the show ended, the curtains closed. Applause sounded from the auditorium, still making its way to my ears because it was so deafening. Once the lights were off my face, the temperature dropped by nearly ten degrees. I grabbed the sides of my dress and lifted the fabric as I headed backstage.
I exchanged hugs and words of congratulations with the cast and crew then made my way to my makeup station. My hair was pulled free from the pins then I dropped the enormous gown and changed into something less puffy for the drive home.
“Arwen.” Henry’s voice sounded nearby, desperate and clingy.
I turned around, surprised to see him standing right behind me. I was clear when I dumped him last night, and I didn’t expect him to come to my show just to get my attention for another five minutes. He’d texted and called me a couple times last night, but I assumed he would give up by the next day.
Guess not.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, immediately uncomfortable that he’d caught me off guard.
“I just wanted to talk to you. Last night, you just left—”
“No. Last night, I said I didn’t want to see you anymore. It’s nothing personal, Henry. It was just a fling, and I’m not interested in having that fling anymore. We weren’t in a relationship to begin with. We only slept together a handful of times. You’re making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be.” Maybe I was jumping the gun, but I’d been in this position so many times that I was tired of having this same conversation over and over again.
“You think I’m just going to let you go without a fight?” he asked incredulously. “Come on, I’m not stupid.”
“And I’m not yours to let go.” I held up my left hand, where my large diamond reflected the lights from the mirror. “I’m married, Henry. This was never going to go anywhere, and you knew that. You need to back up and give me some space.”
“I’m not asking you to marry me. I just don’t see why we can’t—”
“Because I don’t want to. Our fling ran its course, and I’m ready for something new.” Men never had to have this conversation with women. They had their one-night stands without explanation. But when the tables were turned, women weren’t given the same opportunity.