He stalked toward my desk, and I saw something I’d never seen before in his eyes—genuine fear.
“This is because I hurt you, isn’t it? You’re doing this for revenge.”
“Revenge?” I laughed, the sound cold and sharp. “Damon, if I wanted revenge, you’d already be destroyed. This is just business.”
“Bullshit. You’re targeting my clients, my cases—”
“I’m offering better services at competitive prices. If your clients choose me over you, that’s not revenge. That’s capitalism.”
He leaned across my desk, close enough that I could smell his familiar cologne. Once, that scent had made me weak in the knees. Now it just reminded me of betrayal.
“I know you still love me,” he said, his voice dropping to that intimate tone he used to use in bed. “I see it in your eyes when you look at me.”
“What you see is contempt.”
“You can’t hate me that much. Not after everything we shared.”
“Watch me.”
But he wasn’t listening. Instead, he was studying my face with that calculating look I remembered so well.
“You never remarried,” he said suddenly. “In five years, there’s been no one serious. You’re still in love with me.”
The arrogance was astounding. “I never remarried because I learned my lesson about trusting men who think they own me.”
“I never thought I owned you—”
“Really? Then why did you refuse to sign the divorce papers? Why did you tell people I abandoned my family instead of admitting you kicked me out? Why are you here now, thinking you can manipulate me into saving your pathetic excuse for a law firm?”
Each question hit like a physical blow, and I watched his face change as the truth of what he’d done—what he’d always been—finally sank in.
“I was protecting our family—”
“You were protecting your ego.” I stood, moving around the desk to face him. “You couldn’t stand that I was successful. That I was building something bigger than your little law firm. So you tore me down, replaced me with someone who would make you feel like the big strong man, and then rewrote history to make yourself the victim.”
“That’s not—”
“It’s exactly what happened. And now that your perfect replacement ran off with half your money, you want me back. Not because you love me, but because you need me.”
He grabbed my arms, his grip tight enough to bruise. “I do love you. I’ve always loved you.”
“Let go of me.”
“Not until you listen—”
“I said let go.”
My voice was deadly quiet, and something in my tone must have penetrated because his hands fell away.
“I listened to you for five years of marriage,” I continued. “I listened when you told me I worked too much. I listened when you said I should be more like other wives. I listened when you blamed me for your affair. I’m done listening.”
“Elise—”
“You had your chance, Damon. You had a woman who loved you unconditionally, who supported your dreams, who gave you a beautiful daughter. And you threw it all away for a pretty face and a trust fund.”
“I was an idiot—”
