Page 161 of The Sinner's Sanctuary

Are we toxically co-dependent? Also, probably yes.

Do I want to go on like this when a future I never could have imagined with the last person in the world I could have pictured it with is possible? Who’s given me a reason to hope again?

I don’t.

I want to take Christian’s love for granted. I want to fight for his attention and win. I want to beg him to forgive me when I inevitably fuck up and hold him tighter when he does. I want my heart on the line.

I want to love him wildly.

Every day. As much as I possibly can.

But out of respect for him, and out of loyalty to the woman I pledged my life to—even if barely a sliver of her still exists—I have to tell her the truth. I’ve moved on, and now it’s her turn to do the same.

A creature of habit, Marianne has a cocktail every night on the terrace, no matter the weather. She smokes two cigarettes, takes a “medicinal” gummy and proceeds with her evening, whether it involves a charity ball or an evening of making a woman crawl on her knees for the honor of licking her panties. She calls it happy hour.

She looks surprised to see me and even more disoriented when I take a chair from the outdoor table and turn it to face her lounger.

“Well, hello.”

“I was just speaking with Christian,” I say.

Her jaw sets, and she does a slow blink, meeting my eyes with her chin held high. “Is there something you’d like to tell me about you and your assistant?”

“I don’t intend to play a game with you here. Yes, he and I are having sex, along with a relationship, and it’s been going on since he came with me to Rome.”

If she’s surprised by any of this, I can’t tell.

“Have you always been attracted to men?”

“Not always, but not never.”

“I had no idea.”

“Well, you wouldn’t,” I say.

“Ouch.” She lights a cigarette and inhales. She blows the smoke in my direction, and I take it.

“I’m having our marriage annulled.”

She stares blankly at me as I give the words and the concept a moment to sink in. Finally, she blinks again. “I’m sorry?”

“We qualify, it’s less messy, and I’m prepared to offer you a generous lump sum, no strings attached.”

“How generous?”

“Half a billion.”

“Hm.” She breaks eye contact and stares off into the distance, taking a long casual drag off her cigarette. “Is this about Palm Beach?”

“I think you know it’s more than that.”

“Right. Of course.” She hitches up her knees and opens her thighs, gesturing at her crotch with the hand holding the cigarette. “It’s about this. Forget all the times I helped you. All the times I cleaned up some stupid mess you made. Forget all the connections I gave you—the freedom. You just want a nice warm hole to stick your cock in, and that’ll make it all better. Poor, poor man.”

“Don’t be an asshole, Marianne. I know what happened with Avery, and I understand you’re hurt. Don’t take it out on me.”

This gets her attention. A spark returns to her eyes. “Not take it out on you? You’releavingme.”

“Which is long overdue and shouldn’t come as a surprise.”

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