Page 106 of The Plus One Contract

For a second, the weight of it nearly floors me.

I was planning to marry this man?

This man who is nothing but a stranger now?

Oh, Sienna. At what point in that relationship did you hit your head?

The thought slams into me and snaps me out of whatever spell he thinks he’s weaving.

I yank my face away from his touch like it burns.

No more.

I spent too long doubting myself. Too long comparing myself to her.

Too long wondering why I wasn’t enough.

I let him make me feel small.

Let his betrayal chip away at my confidence until I was nothing but raw edges and unanswered questions.

I let myself believe that the only way to survive this weekend was to fake a relationship because, deep down, I was still afraid of what people would see if they looked too closely.

I am so much more than this.

More than him.

More than what he did to me.

I try. I really try to be the bigger person here. To just walk away. To not stoop to his level.

But this is years in the making.

I am done swallowing the anger.

“God,” I say, shaking my head, “I thought it was me. I thought I was the problem. But now I see it so clearly.” I flash him a pitying look, finally seeing him for who he really is. “You weren’t cheating on me because I wasn’t enough for you. You were cheating because you knew, deep down, you’d never be enough forme.”

His whole body locks up.

I see it. The way his throat bobs, the way his eyes flicker.

It’s the truth.

And it lands right where I want it.

Dead center.

Turning away, I take a few steps toward the path leading back to the hotel.

I should leave it at that.

I want to leave it at that.

My comment landed exactly where I wanted it to. Right in the hollow space where his ego used to live.

But my mother’s pettiness is woven into my DNA, buried deep and waiting for moments like this to rise to the surface, sharp-edged and merciless.

I stop and whip around. “Oh, and one more thing.”

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