Page 67 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8
“It’s true,” he says. “You are the only thing that’s real to me.”
“I really sort of hate you,” I say. “What you think of that? What you think of knowing that the one person you can remember can’t stand you?”
“Then why didn’t you leave me to die,dragostea mea?”
I despise him for that. “I’m not your love. I never have been. Don’t torment me.” I lose my temper then, I cross the space and grab the shiny vase sitting on a stand in the corner, I wrap my hand around it and I throw it right into the side of the wall, watching as all the black glass splinters and shatters onto the floor.
“Are you even being real right now? This isn’t just another way that you’re looking to manipulate me? Because you love to manipulate me. I think that’s the only thing you ever really liked about me. That I was a young virgin who wasn’t armed against all of your machinations.”
It’s my turn to start pacing. “You took me to Paris, and I thought it was beautiful. I thought it was romantic. You said that you wanted to marry me, and I thought that it was because you loved me. What I’ve learned in the time since is that you never actually loved me.”
“You left me,” he says, his voice grim. “I must have done something terrible I…” His gaze goes distant, blank. “What is it I do?”
“What?”
“For work. What is it I do?”
“You own Apostolis Enterprises, and it is basically every industry you could ever imagine.”
“I… Am I a good man, Cassandra?”
I stop and stare at him. The question is absolutely sincere, entirely genuine. He looks different than I’ve ever seen him, the expression on his face totally unguarded.
“I… Why are you asking me that?”
“Because I have the feeling that I’m not. I was in danger, you left me. Those things together make me wonder…”
“You told me you’re certain you weren’t having an affair.” I despise myself for how much I want that to be the truth.
“I am. I am certain of that. I know that you’re the only woman I want.” I can’t ignore the sincerity in his gaze, but I also know it might not be true. He thinks it is, but that doesn’t mean I can trust a man with a head injury. “But I wasn’t good to you.”
I feel bad that he thinks… Well, I’m not sure what he thinks. “You didn’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re thinking it’s… I felt like I was isolated and alone. I can’t actually tell you what you do for work on a daily basis. You’ve never explained it to me. I can’t tell you about your childhood. I can’t tell you if you had any pets, or where you went to school. I can’t tell you what your hopes and dreams are, if you ever wanted to do anything beyond running your father’s company. I don’t know the answer to that because it’s something you wouldn’t share with me.”
“Then I am afraid I’m right and I’m not a good man. It is entirely possible I deserved what happened to me today.”
I can only stare at him. He’s a stranger to himself now, and it’s terrifying to think that of the two of us, I know him best, because I don’t know him. Not really.
Except…
“You were never cruel to me, not… You were mean. You were mean to me when I told you I was unhappy, that is true. You said I was only a waitress. You tried to push me away and it very definitely worked. But you never harmed me. You never made me feel like I was in danger. The truth is, Dragos, I kept myself locked in your house. You didn’t lock me in.”
I swallow hard and I turn away from him. “I was afraid of you not wanting me anymore. I was afraid of that from the beginning, so I did everything you asked me to do and I didn’t rock the boat because I didn’t want to lose you. But in the end I lost myself.” I take a deep breath and try to ease the knot in my chest. “That actually isn’t your fault. That’s my fault. Some of this… I felt too much for you. So much that it eclipsed all of my other dreams. I think that’s who I am. I was that way with my art for my whole life and I thought it meant I loved art and it wouldn’t change. But I met you, and you filled me up all the way and I couldn’t love anything else. That’s my fault. Plenty of people have relationships and they stick to their own convictions about their life and they don’t give up their dreams. I did.”
I turn away from him now because I can’t look at him while I’m feeling this much.
It’s hard to own my part in the mess.
But I have to.
His lack of love might have been toxic, but so is my love.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dragos
SHE’S CRYING.SHE’S TRYINGnot to let me see, but my Cassandra is crying, her back to me, the shattered pieces of that black vase around her feet. It’s late and my head hurts, but I know I can’t sleep. I wouldn’t want to even if I could, not when faced with her pain like this.
What manner of bastard am I?
