Page 132 of Tell Me What You Want, Or Leave Me

“I’m not going anywhere unless it’s with you,” I declare. “And right now, I’m going to call your mother and sister so they know what’s happened to you.”

“Damn it, Judith. Don’t do that.”

“I’m doing it because you’re my husband, and I love you, got that?”

The Iceman is at his most sinister and devastating.

“Jude...”

Well...at least he called me Jude.

“When I was in the hospital, you stayed with me. You didn’t leave me for a single minute and now...”

“Now you’re going to leave,” he says.

“That’s not going to happen,” I respond to the challenge in his eyes. I sit down again in the armchair next to his bed. I take my cell out of my bag. “If you want to, get up and throw me out. In the meantime, I’ll just stay right here.”

He just stares at me.

I stare right back.

He knows he can’t do a thing and that I’m not going to leave. The door opens, and Björn comes in again.

“C’mon, buddy. I’m dying to see that proof. Show it to me,” he says.

Eric’s uncomfortable, but he points to his laptop. Björn hands it to him. He opens it, types, and turns it so we can see the screen.

“I want you out of my sight as soon as you see this.”

Björn starts a video, and I immediately recognize the Guantanamera. Björn and I are at the bar, and you can hear us talking.

“So, if it’s not too much, can you tell me what kind of women you like?”

“Like you. Smart, beautiful, sexy, tempting, easygoing, a little crazy, and disconcerting. Plus, I love to be surprised.”

“Am I all that?”

“Yes, beautiful, you are!”

Stunned, Björn and I exchange glances. Seen isolated like that, it really looks bad.

In the next video, we’re both dancing and having fun. After that, we see a series of photographs of the two of us walking down the street arm in arm or sitting in a restaurant, toasting with wine.

Incredulous, we turn to Eric, who’s beyond irritated.

“Now what? Who’s lying here?” he asks.

Fury, anger, and despair eat away at me.

“You dickhead!” I say, slapping shut the laptop.

I’ve closed it so forcefully that Eric cringes in pain when it hits his leg. He curses.

“Don’t insult me again or—”

“Or what, you stubborn idiot?” Incensed, I throw my phone at his chest. “Or you’ll kick me out of your life? Look, handsome, go fuck yourself!”

Björn stares at me. He tries to signal for me to calm down, but I’m like a hydra, and, grabbing my bag, I storm out of the room. I march to the elevator, and then Björn stops me.

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