"Don't tell me you were actually naive enough to think putting some meaningless trinket on my finger meant I'd give you my whole heart. You really believed that?"
He probably expected the usual—me choking on my grievance, dragging the argument on and on.
But I only cried in silence.
I'd stopped hoping for even a scrap of sincerity from him a long time ago.
All I wanted now was to be free of him entirely.
——
"Crying like that. God, you look ugly."
Oliver held my gaze for a long, tight moment, eyes narrowed. Then his jaw loosened just slightly, and he leaned down to wipe the tears away.
His fingertip grazed the bridge of my nose, light and careless. His tone was nowhere near gentle.
"Enough. The only reason I see her at all is because she can teach you proper etiquette. Teach you what it means to stay in line."
"Keep this up—the crying, the tantrums—and I'll stop coming home at all. I'll just stay with her."
Tears still clung to my lashes.
But inside, it felt like a thousand-pound stone had been dropped straight onto my chest.
The tears that had been pooling suddenly stopped.
And everything in me went quiet.