Page 154 of Poison Vows

A quick glance at the quiet girl lying on the bed tells me that she’s deep in thought with a mix of complicated emotions in her eyes.

“It was my fault,” she whispers.

“Yes,” I tell her, not bothering to be easy with her. “I spent a forever and a half trying to hate you, blame you, and ignore you, but you wouldn’t let up. Constantly bulldozing your way into my life and now, after all these years, we’re now married when we shouldn’t be because now you hate me and blame me and want to use me.”

I glare at Angel, but I’m not really angry at this development at all, and she somehow knows it. I tap my wedding band, noting the way her gaze fixes on it for forty-three whole seconds.

“Then why did you marry me?” she questions seriously. “Why did you keep me with you all these years? Was it just so I can be your pawn? Your entertainment? Someone to feel sorry for?”

“I’ve never felt sorry for you,” I tell her. “I admire you.”

She scoffs. “Sure.”

“I’m being honest,” I press on. “You and I are cut from the exact same cloth. You’re not a pure, innocent little thing. If you were, you would’ve stayed as far away from me as possible years ago. And whenever I thought you’d finally quit me, you kept coming to me.”

My wife’s eyes flash with too many emotions I can’t name in this moment.

“Where were you these past two weeks?”

“Getting a new heart.”

“What?”

I hold her surprised gaze, waiting for something else from her, but it never comes.

“You left me here to parade around with your rival like a toy while you were getting a new heart? Was I just a mere distraction then?” she demands. Without waiting for my reply, she launches herself at me, but before she can press her ear against my chest, she pulls back suddenly. “No! I don’t want to know.”

I’m stunned.

How many times has this sacred ritual between us been a vital point of our lives? And now she doesn’t want to know? The fuck?

“Angel—” I start, but she cuts me off.

“I wasn’t joking earlier. I want nothing to do with you ever again!”

This hurts.

Deciding to switch gears, I stalk closer to her.

“You don’t mean that,” I say, pulling her to me. I get up with her in my arms and plaster her against the nearest wall. “You don’t mean that cruel shit.”

“I do!” She glares.

“Are you punishing me?” I grit out, my body coiled tight with so much tension that it won’t take much for me to combust.

If she keeps looking at me like I don’t exist, but was smiling earlier at my dickwad cousin like he’s the sun to her universe, I’ll go insane.

“Punish you?” she scoffs, her gaze and tone still cold and indifferent. “How dare I?”

“And yet you dare to let that bastard touch you!”

“Ahh, so you were watching from a distance!” she mocks. “Up until a few minutes ago, he was the one I was to marry, wasn’t he? Physical connection happens to be something that solidifies the union between two people and besides, I’m a promise keeper.”

“A promise keeper?” I scoff, unbelieving the crap she’s spewing so coldly.

“Yes! I was only following your instructions to a T.”

I pause, catching the expression that flashes in her eyes and disappears almost instantly.

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