Page 62 of Vow to Hate You

“I know. But it’s the truth. He didn’t. I think he’s jealous because he believes you’re sleeping with someone else instead of playing music like you really are.”

“He was furious the other night.” I stepped off the elevator. “The way he acted was ridiculous. I’m not telling him.”

Maybe it was petty of me, but my husband pissed me off enough that I didn’t care right now.

“Shit,” Char mumbled, looking at her phone.

“What?”

“I’m sorry.” She raised her head, a frown on her face. “I completely forgot I had plans with Hayley and Ana. There’s a sorority party tonight, but I can cancel?—”

“No,” I interrupted, giving her a smile. “Go. You spent all weekend with me. This is your last year of college, Char. Go enjoy it.”

“We had dinner plans.”

I glanced at the bar. “They have open seats. I don’t mind eating alone. You know that.”

“You have a way home?”

“I’ll order a car,” I promised. “Go. Have fun.”

She gave me a quick hug. “I’ll see you next weekend.”

After she got back in the elevator, I made my way to the bar, sitting on the stool at the very end. This hotel restaurant was new to me, but Char loved it. Like most of the places she frequented, it was upscale and elegant. I caught myself in the mirror’s reflection behind the liquor bottles.

My heart dipped slightly, noticing the color in my hair was fading. My makeup was more neutral than I used to wear when I had been living across the ocean. The light blue dress I was wearing had thin straps and sat just above my knees. As much as I detested it, I knew how to play the game here, especially when I was in the city. My father had ties everywhere, and if I was less than perfectly presentable, I’d be hearing about it.

“What can I get you?”

I looked at the bartender, who was smiling at me, giving me his full attention. This place was nearly empty since the dinner rush hadn’t started yet.

“A vodka cranberry, please.”

“Put her drink on my tab. I’ll take a gin and tonic.”

My gaze slid to where a man was dropping on the stool next to me. His blond hair was styled to the side, and he flashed me a dazzling smile when I met his blue eyes. One glance at his perfectly fitted suit proved he was someone with money. I caught sight of his Rolex watch when he slid his credit card on the bar.

“Thank you, but I can buy my own drink,” I stated, giving him a small but firm smile. “I’m not interested.”

He chuckled. “Interested in what? All I’m looking for is a conversation with a beautiful woman.”

Oh, he was laying his charm on thick. I guessed he was probably at least ten years older than me. While he was definitely nice to look at, he didn’t do it for me. Fuck me for letting my arrogant as fuck husband get in my head. Even if I loved to provoke Damian about sleeping with other men, I had no plan or desire to actually do it. Something I would never admit to him until he proved to me he could change—to create a tolerable marriage for me too.

“I’m Grant.” He held out his hand for me to shake.

“I’m not interested.”

The bartender set my drink in front of me, and I muttered a thank you, pulling out a few bills, setting them down to make it clear I was paying for my own drink.

“Keep the change,” I told the bartender.

I could feel Grant’s eyes on me, but ignored him, having every intention of leaving. Until I turned slightly, catching sight of someone sitting at a table in the back of the restaurant. My breath caught in my throat, shock hitting me in the chest.

Damian was sitting there, a whiskey in his hand as he looked at his phone. I sat frozen on the stool, staring at my husband in disbelief. Did he follow me here? The surprise faded, anger quickly replacing it. He wasn’t looking at me right this moment, but he knew I was here. Silent fury was radiating from him. His body was rigid, his hand tight around his phone. I could tell his teeth were clenched all the way from over here.

My eyes darted back to Grant, fury taking over my actions. My husband had the audacity to follow me because he didn’t trust me?

Well then, let him fucking watch.

---