Page 97 of Handsome Devil
Practice empathy, Dr. Patel chided in my head.Work on it like it’s a muscle you need to develop.
“Get the fuck out.”
Oops.
“Since you asked so nicely…” She trailed off, voice sweet as a peach. “No.”
“Out, Gia.”
“No.”
It was time to bring out the big guns. Probably should’ve started with that. I was terrible at this. But I had zero fucking experience.
“I brought macarons from Paris,” I said.
“I’m allergic to almonds.”
“Arancini from Sicily.”
“Don’t eat fried food on weekdays.”
“Fluffy Yorkshire pudding. Still warm.” My fist pressed into the wall so hard it started chipping. “I know it’s your favorite.”
A pause. A hesitation. A tick of the clock.
“With gravy and creamy garlic potatoes?” she sniffled. “And…and…Sunday roast?”
“Yeah. Row made it himself. Just how you like it.”
“He makes mashed peas.”
What was I to say to this?Go marry Row Casablancas then. See if I give a damn.
But I did. And it infuriated me.
Finally, she said, “Give me a few more hours.”
No, I wanted to howl.Already, you’re not delivering your side of the bargain.
But I had no chips to bargain with. It was the first time since Andrin where I was at a disadvantage against another human.
I did not like it.
I turned back and left.
Stepping out of my room, I rubbed the sleep and tears from my eyes.
I‘d spent the past few days steering clear and well away from my husband. Not because I looked like hell. It wasn’t even entirely because of Mum.
What kept me hidden was the realization I was falling for my monster.
Craving its claws. Missing its pointy, venomous teeth. Wanting to capture its stony, unmoving heart.
Clearly, I’d fallen down the Stockholm syndrome rabbit hole. Yay me.
He was callous, forbidding, not to mention aliteralmurderer, but he was oddly loyal to those he’d chosen to entwine his destiny with, and I found myself at the top of that list.
Before making it one step, my eyes landed on the elaborate gift Tate had brought me. Cellophane-wrapped treats from all over the world—the UK, Cuba, Jamaica, Italy, France, and South Korea—individually wrapped and waiting to be consumed. There were baskets of fruits and chocolates. And something else. Something that made me pause.
