Page 105 of It Must Be Fate

His continued silence is starting to hurt as much as the confirmation of his infidelity. After fifteen years together, I thought he’d at least have the decency to be honest with me if he’d made a mistake.

I wouldn’t forgive him, but I’d have a little more respect for him than I do now.

There’s a violence in my hands as I push back from the table. I stand and my momentum sends my chair crashing to the ground at my feet with a cacophonous bang.

I can’t look at this, this… thisstrangerI’ve shared my house and bed with for almost half my life. I can’t bear to be in the same room as him.

I don’t know him at all.

I’m halfway to the door when his hand closes around my elbow and he yanks me violently back into his chest. He traps me so tightly against him that I can feel his heart thrashing through his clothes. My head tucks easily under the painfully stiff line of his jaw, even as I try to shove off of him.

“I’m not letting you walk away from me again,” he bites out, irate.

“Let me go!”

James comes to investigate the source of the loud bang, his timing unfortunate.

My husband whirls on him next.

“Get the fuck out,” Rhys snarls at him, hand tightening on my elbow as the ugly roar rips from his lips.

James scurries away with a respectful dip of his head, averting his eyes from the scene. Once he’s gone, Rhys’s glare slides from the door and down to me. He stares daggers into me, the blades of his eyes so sharp they cut actual wounds into my body.

The air is so thin between us, it’s unbreathable. Still, his chest heaves furiously, up and down and up and down, managing to drag in oxygen I can’t seem to find.

“How long have you been cheating on me for?”

His jaw grinds so tightly together, I’m surprised he doesn’t come up with a mouthful of crushed teeth. “I’m not cheating on you.”

“Who is she?” I barely recognize my voice. It’s small and shaky with no hint of my usual confidence. “What’s her name?”

“I’m not fucking cheating on you, Silver.”

With one last stern look in my direction, he shakes his head and reaches for the fallen chair. He releases my elbow and traps my wrist in his fist instead. When the chair is back on its legs, he pushes me into it.

I try shaking his hold loose but his hand only tightens around me, an animalistic growl leaving his lips warning me to stay put.

He kneels between my legs and tugs my wrist towards him. Without looking up at me, he opens his other palm, revealing the rings he has clutched in his fist. He must have swiped them off the table before he came after me.

Rhys pushes the wedding band back on my fourth finger, followed immediately by my engagement ring.

“I really don’t like it when you take these off, love,” he warns, voice tight.

His words would be no more obvious a threat than if he’d held an actual gun to my head when he said them. His voice shakes under the strain of his barely controlled temper but he kisses the back of my palm as if to soften the anger in his words.

“You’re right, I wasn’t in New York.” His eyes lift to mine, deep, dark, enticing blue. “I lied.” The remaining air dies a quick death in my lungs at his admission but he doesn’t let it stand. “I was in Chicago.”

I freeze.

My hometown.

“Why?”

“I got a call that your mum relapsed last week. I was there to help her get admitted back into rehab.”

A cold drift washes through my body, robbing me of my words. I can’t even process what he’s just said to me. It’s so far from the truth I’d manufactured in my head and shocking in so many different ways that I find I’m capable of no more eloquent a response than, “What?”

He remains kneeling between my legs, his hand squeezing mine. “I lied to you and I’m sorry. If I’m being honest, I never intended for you to find out. I was going to take this secret to the grave with me.” He brings my hand up to his mouth and kisses the tips of my fingers. “I know how it affects you every time she relapses—how you suffer. I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing you get hurt like that again. I couldn’t let that happen.”

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