Page 171 of Requiem for Love

“If you’d meant it, you wouldn’t be holding the ice.”

“I tried to rape you.”

She subdued her first reaction.

“We want the same things, Siriano.” He flinched. “You want it to be good. I want it not to hurt. I don’t want to be violated. You holding ice against my face? Cupping my chin? What do you think that does to me?”

He grunted and stepped away, ice pack in hand. “Whatever it is you’re doing, stop it.”

“I don’t understand.”

He marched toward the door.

“Siriano, please.”

“Stop fucking calling me that!” He was in her face in seconds. “I fucking choked your child, you stupid bitch. I killed your husband. This shit you are doing, it is not real, and you are a fucking idiot if you think I can’t see through it.”

She looked down, playing with her fingers. “I can’t forgive you for what you did to my son, but I won’t let you lie to me.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Adrían.” She raised her head. “Adrían already told me the truth, how he killed Curtis, how you tried to stop him. He told me everything.”

“He told youhekilled Curtis Savea?”

She nodded.

Please lie.

Please, please lie.

If he lied, she had him.

“Why would he tell you that?”

“Why would you lie?” she countered. “Why are you so obsessed with making me believe you’re all bad? Like everyone else, you were, at one time, a child. You probably had dreams, wishes, and hopes that somebody stole from you. Now, you want me to look at you like you were born this way?”

He pressed his thumbs against his temples, eyes closed. “Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Whatever the fuck it is you’re doing!”

She raised her voice. “They said the same thing about me! My mother fucked a married man, so that made me demon spawn. I’m more than what they fucking gave me credit for. You must think I want to care about you.”

“Stop it.”

“I can’t stop it, Siriano! Don’t you think I’m trying? You terrorized my child. Don’t you think I’m trying!” She brought tears to her eyes, made her lips tremble. “Did you…did you give me something? Whatever you injected into my neck…is that what’s doing this?”

His chest moved like he’d run six miles in ten seconds. “Doing what?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and it took every ounce of her willpower not to choke him. “Making me want to touch you. Why would I want to touch you? I fucking hate it. You’ve done awful things.”

“Stop.”

“Do you know Curtis never apologized for anything in our relationship? Not even with gestures?”

Curtis, if you can hear me, I’m sorry.

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