Page 91 of The Exception

I glared at him. “Ironic then, how cheap you just made me feel.”

I spun away. Done with this conversation. With him.

Entitled. Elitist. Asshole.

“Lily, wait.”

“Why?” I asked. “So you can insult me again?”

“I’m not—” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t trying to insult you. I realize now how it might have come across, but that’s not how I meant it. And I’m sorry.”

His earnest apology calmed some of my anger. Not completely, but enough to keep me from fleeing.

“What do you propose, then?” I asked.

“I’m not saying we should spend a lot. But a basic, functional kitchen and bathroom don’t have to cost much. An upgraded bed.” He cleared his throat. “Beds.” He seemed to place extra emphasis on that final “s” and the fact that it was plural.

“I actually ordered a new mattress for you, but it won’t be here for another week. And I ordered you some sheets from the Huxley Grand brand.” Because I knew they were his favorite, and he slept better when he was comfortable.

“Thank you. That was very considerate. But what about you?”

I waved a hand through the air. “Don’t worry about me.”

“You’re my wife. Of course I’m worried about you.”

Because I was his obligation. Graham saw it as his duty to take care of me.

I shouldn’t care. I should be grateful he was so generous. So considerate. Especially considering the fact that our marriage was fake. But somehow, it only made me feel worse.

“This isn’t open for negotiation,” he added.

“News flash, Graham,” I said, crowding him. “That’s not how a relationship works.” I jabbed his chest.

He covered my hand with his, holding it to his heart instead. His eyes searched mine, and it felt as if he were seeking something from me. What? I didn’t know. Because he didn’t want a relationship, didn’t want me. At least not in any capacity other than as his pretend wife.

His response had caught me off guard, but I was determined to stand my ground. “Don’t you remember what we discussed?” I gave him a pointed look, referring tothat nightwithout actually mentioning it.

His eyes were hooded, and then he leaned in, his arm brushing against mine as he said, “Oh, I remembereverything.”

His breath was warm on my skin, and his nearness sent a riot of visions flitting through my mind. Memories of that night. My mouth went dry. So dry. I licked my lips, and his eyes tracked the movement.

“Then you’ll recall that in this relationship, we are equals,” I said, trying to stay on track.

He stepped closer, and my heart rate picked up. “As if I could forget.”

I forced myself to snap out of this lust-induced haze, though my words came out with more of a bite than I’d intended. “Then start treating me like one.”

“I—” He dropped my hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. “How is me looking out for you not treating you like an equal? Aren’t people in a relationship supposed to support each other? Take care of each other?”

He seemed genuinely confused. And I had to admit, he made a good point. I just wasn’t used to letting anyone take care of me.

My shoulders relaxed. “I mean, yes. But there’s a way to discuss something without making demands.”

“Okay. How about this? I would like to do a basic renovation of our living quarters to make them more comfortable. And the money for my proposed renovations to our living space wouldn’t come from the restoration budget.”

What?

“I—” I shook my head. “You’ve already done so much. I don’t want you to have to do that.”

---