Page 119 of Marrying My Ex's Brother
The words are simple. That’s what makes them hurt.
Lena’s eyes shine. “I know.”
“No,” I say. “You don’t. Because if you knew, you wouldn’t be standing here discussing me like that.”
I leave before she can answer.
My hands are steady. My face is calm.
Inside, I’m shaking.
I need air. Or water. Or a room where no one is watching me decide whether I’m strong enough to stay standing. I make it halfway down the corridor leading away from the main hall before someone catches my wrist.
I know it’s him before I turn.
Dmitri.
His fingers close around me like he still has the right.
“Let go,” I say.
He doesn’t.
He looks perfect. That’s the worst part. Perfect black tuxedo, perfect hair, perfect face arranged into something between anger and disbelief.
“You’ve made your point,” he says.
I stare at him.
“My point?”
“Yes. The dress. The ring. The dance with him. This whole little performance.” His eyes move over me, and for the first time, the look makes my skin crawl. “Enough, Anya.”
I pull my wrist, but his grip tightens.
“You don’t get to say anything to me,” I say. “After everything you did, you have no right.”
His mouth hardens. “You ran from our wedding.”
“You were kissing my bridesmaid.”
“That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to marry you.”
The sentence is so horrible, so selfish, so perfectly Dmitri, that for a moment I can’t speak.
He leans closer. “You think Yaromir cares about you?”
My chest tightens. I hate that he knows where to aim.
Dmitri sees it and smiles faintly.
I lift my chin. “You don’t know anything about my marriage.”
“I know my brother.” His voice lowers. “He doesn’t marry women like you because he wants them. He married you because it hurt me. Because it insulted my father. Because you were available and angry enough to be useful.”
I tell myself not to react. I fail. Something flickers across my face, and Dmitri catches it immediately.
“He told you it was revenge, didn’t he?” Dmitri says. “And you were so desperate to feel chosen again, you agreed.”
