Page 17 of Zero Pucks

It wasn’t worth the constant humiliation.

“Do you want me to get you a coffee, baby?—”

“No,” I said in a rush. “No. This won’t take long.”

He swept the chair out and set it next to me, boxing me against the wall. “You sound so serious.”

I tried not to cringe, but when he reached for my hand, I pulled away.

“So,” he said from behind a sigh, “you really did come here to be a little bitch.”

“I came here to end it.”

He blinked, then burst into laughter. “You know it’ll never stick. In a week, you’ll be begging for my dick. Just like always.”

“I won’t.” I’d succumbed to all his worthless promises that he was going to change and get better. I’d agreed to try again and let myself be sucked back into the weeks he pretended to be different. And when his hooks were imbedded in my skin, he’d tug until I was torn and bleeding. But I’d never gone so far as to beg. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” He rolled his eyes. “Look, you and I both know?—”

“I cheated.”

His jaw snapped shut, and he breathed heavily through his nose for a second. “I’m sorry? What did you say?”

“I cheated.” It felt like a thousand pounds were lifted off my chest.

“Amedeo.” His tone was tense, full of warning.

“I got drunk, and I met this guy?—”

“You hadbetterbe fucking joking,” he snarled and curled his fingers into my wrist. Hard. His nails pricked at my skin.

Shaking my head, I tugged away from him, and after a small struggle, he let go. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed. “Oh, baby. I’m going to need much more than sorry. I’m going to need groveling. A big cardboard sign strapped to your chest letting everyone know what a whore you are, and then some public humiliation?—”

“No. N-no,” I stammered. I felt sick to my stomach, and I had to breathe through the rush of nausea. “No. I’m not apologizing so we can get back together. It’s over.”

He stared. “You don’t get to decide that. Thecheaterdoesn’t get to decide that. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“I don’t remember much,” I told him, ignoring his question. It was rhetorical anyway. “I was at the bar my last night in Vegas, and I got drunk. There was a guy. M-most of it is foggy, but I woke up in bed with him the morning of my flight.”

His face went soft all over. And that was when Bryce was most dangerous. “So you don’t actually know that you cheated. Baby, listen, we can work this out. I don’t want to lose you.”

He reached for me again, and I shoved myself so hard against the wall the room vibrated with my thud. He looked a little startled. “He and I got married.”

Bryce’s jaw shut so hard the click was audible. “I’m sorry…you gotmarried?”

“Mm.”

“You need a marriage license to get married.”

“I know. We got one.” It wasn’t filed, and I now knew it wasn’t legal, but I had it. I could see the look on Bryce’s face. I had to do something drastic, or he was never going to let me go. Breaking up with him wasn’t enough. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and before I could really think, I said, “I’m going to go be with him.”

“In Vegas?”

“No. He doesn’t live there either.”

Bryce raised a brow at me and said, voice dripping with saccharine sweet, “Where, then?”

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