Page 127 of Hard to Resist

“I don’t do open houses. Guess you’re not as up to date as you like to think.”

“It was just an example, you ass.”

“What do you want, Celine?”

“Where should I start? I have a laundry list of grievances that you never bothered hearing out.”

I am going to strangle the woman.

“I’m not playing games with you. Get to your point or get out.”

My stern tone is the wrong choice. It flips a switch inside her, turning those eyes into bottomless black holes of hatred. I inwardly curse, the knowledge that this conversation is about to get ten times worse is undeniable.

“I’m trying to keep up appearances in public, but the fact that I am breathing the same air as you is like sucking poison into my lungs. Your very presence kills me, Cullen. I never wanted you back in this city, but you just couldn’t help yourself. You just had to return.”

“I never wanted to leave in the first place.”

I would like to think that I’ve built up a tolerance to her maliciousness over the years, but I haven’t. As much as I try to grow thick skin against Celine, she manages to slice right through. I loved her once, loved the innocent person she used to be, and that has made me forever vulnerable to her attacks.

“I want you gone again. Only then will I sign the papers.”

Not this again.

“You can’t make that stipulation; there’s nothing for you to stand on. You’re wasting your time.”

“Are you saying it doesn’t bother you? That you wake up every day knowing that I’m walking these same streets, and it doesn’t drive you mad?”

“No, because I don’t even think about you, Celine. Your very existence is nothing to me anymore.”

“And that is why I hate you. You stopped loving me, stopped giving a damn about me, way before we ended things. All you ever cared about was yourself and your career. What I wanted meant nothing. Even now, you can’t afford me this one thing.”

“Fucking hell, Celine. I never said I wasn’t at fault. I owned that years ago. How many more times do you need to hear me say that I also fucked up?” My patience is starting to snap, and it’s an effort to keep my voice under control. “Because might I remind you that I’m not the one who put the final nail in the coffin. That was all you.”

“How dare you bring that up.”

“Are you serious? You’re the one who started all this.”

“I’m not signing those papers.”

“You have to.”

“Actually, I don’t. The Brinks have been working overtime, poking holes at the wording of our agreement until it became a sinking ship at the bottom of the ocean.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean our agreement never explicitly said that I would physically sign anything.”

“You can’t be serious.”

They are grasping at straws. Halston mentioned that this could happen, that it would likely be their final trump card, but that I shouldn’t worry because there is no way it’d hold up in court if it comes to that. I shouldn’t be so surprised that he was right, but I am. Part of me really believed that Celine would cool down eventually, that she wouldn’t hold onto her hatred. It seems that the years we spent apart only caused her emotions to fester.

Any small hope I’ve ever had dies.

“If you won’t leave me alone, I’ll keep you shackled to me forever. I’ll make you suffer for eternity, take away any attempt at happiness you might try to find—because you broke my heart, making it so I can never love again.”

“I thought you came here to negotiate with me, but you’ve done nothing but make childish demands. You’re the one who refuses to change, Celine. You’re the one who refuses to mend your heart. That’s on you.”

“No, it’s your fault.”

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