Page 103 of It Must Be Fate

Never.

Not unless he feels like his claim over me is being threatened. There is no clearer indication of that than me taking off my rings, and if his face is anything to go by, he fuckinghatesit.

Hypocrite.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The carefully controlled anger in his question weakens my bravery until I feel like I’ll bend beneath the force of his gaze.

I gather my wits about me and steel my spine.

“When you put these rings on my finger, you took a vow. We both did. To be faithful for the rest of our lives.”

The muscle beneath his left eye twitches. “Yeah.”

I push the rings towards him. I don’t mean for them to scrape across the wood, but they do and he flinches. The hand he has laying nonchalantly on the table balls into a tight, brutal fist. Throttled veins bulge from beneath his skin and run down the length of his wrist.

I nod at the rings before meeting his gaze. “Then do I still have a reason to be wearing these?”

An angry hiss whistles sharply past his lips.

He leans forward, eating the distance between us across the table and easily dwarfing me into the back of my seat. This close, I can see the rage in his eyes.

“Put them back on.”

Every word is twisted with fury.

He’s seconds away from a catastrophic explosion when it’smyanger that should be driving this,myheart that’s broken.

I open my mouth to say something since he doesn’t seem inclined to actually answer my question.

Whatever words I was about to utter, they’re cut off by the sound of his fist slamming down viciously hard on the table.

So hard that the plates, cutlery, and even the candlesticks lift an inch off the surface before landing back down in a cluttered mess.

Chickpea curry splatters everywhere.

Unlike him, I don’t flinch.

I didn’t know how Rhys was going to react, but I’d been prepared for anything.

Anger doesn’t surprise me.

“Put the rings back on now, Thayer,” he seethes. “How dare you even ask me that?”

“Did you have a good work trip?” I ask, my tone pleasant. “Did you get everything you needed done?”

He eyes me cautiously. “Yes…”

“Where were you, Rhys?”

“You know where I was. I was in—”

It’s the affected look of confusion on his face likeI’mthe one lying through my teeth that makes me snap, finally shattering the charade.

“Before you lie to me again, I know you weren’t in New York.”

Rhys’s fist relaxes, the veins disappearing back beneath his skin as before. He deflates, slumping into his chair as if overcome with exhaustion, his face suddenly pale. With the distance reestablished between us, I feel like I can breathe again.

---