Page 44 of Love Him Like Water

To that, Cinna sighed.

“I have a problem with girls being traded like fucking chattel. I have a problem with someone your age blindly marrying a man like Renzo. And I definitely have a problem knowing you were traded like chattel in what was supposed to be a sham of a marriage to a man like Renzo who made me go and get you birth control pills,” she said, making my belly wobble.

“I… I chose this,” I said, feeling my fake confidence starting to fall away.

Cinna’s gaze watched me for an agonizingly slow moment. Sighing, she nodded. “Maybe you did,” she agreed. “But I think we both know that you didn’t know what you were getting into. And I get it. Renzo is successful. And he’s got a face and body like a fucking marble statue. I’m sure he fucks like a porn star.” She paused then, giving me a surprisingly gentle look. “But he’s hard,” she said. “And when hard things crash into soft ones, the soft ones get crushed.”

With that, Cinna finished her drink, then turned and walked away.

Alone, I lifted my drink, taking a long sip as her words swirled around in my head.

The thing was, she wasn’t wrong.

I genuinely didn’t know what I was getting into. If I had, I wouldn’t have been crying so much, feeling so despondent and unsure of myself.

And while Renzo had shown me sweetness, even softness, there was no denying he was a hard man.

One who clearly didn’t want a life partner. Just his alliance. And a body to move with when the mood struck.

He didn’t want me.

That thought had stupid tears pricking my eyes again, making me finish my drink, then make my way toward the kitchen where Elian was standing, holding something in a takeaway tin.

“What’s this?” I asked as he handed it to me.

“Chicken fingers and fries,” he said.

“How’d you know I practically live on this?” I asked, taking off the lid, and popping a fry into my mouth.

“Because my sister does too,” he said, nodding. “Finally got that invitation, huh?” he asked.

“I did,” I agreed, nodding with a certainty I didn’t feel.

Sure, I was here.

But I didn’t feel like I belonged.

And I was pretty sure I might never.

But then Dav showed up with another drink.

And by the time I finished it, I kind of didn’t care anymore if I belonged or not.

I drifted around the room on a cloud, greeting people who engaged me, talking to a man named Michael for a while, then trying to play pool, and failing spectacularly, and drinking the refills Dav kept bringing me.

I didn’t even know how much time passed as I was trapped in a Bay Breeze haze, but the party seemed to thin out a bit by the time I was walking through the seating space where Renzo was seated.

He hadn’t said a word to me all night.

And I’d been trying to pretend that didn’t hurt.

It got easier with each drink, I found.

But walking?

Walking got harder and harder with each one.

“Whoa!” one of the men yelled as the walking thing and the coordination thing failed me at the same moment, making me trip and start to pitch forward.

---