The Ruin (Convenience #3) - Stella Gray Page 0,2
knew Maxilene could save DRM’s ass from going under, and you figured she was your best bet at getting the campaign. Did you even pitch me at all?”
“Of course I did,” I insist. “I pushed harder for you than anyone else.”
“Oh, I’m sure. And now we can see the results of all your hard work.”
She pulls the bags to the floor and starts wheeling them toward me.
“It was a mistake to put my career in your hands, Luka. I’ve worked my ass off for years trying to get somewhere, and then you came along with all your big promises and somehow managed to convince me that you actually intended to keep them. But you never keep your promises, do you? You’ve been pulling the bait-and-switch with me since the first time we met.”
I can’t even defend myself. Because what she’s saying has the cold ring of truth. The first time I set eyes on Brooklyn, years ago, I promised her an exclusive modeling contract just to get her into bed. And now, with our marriage contract, it looks like I’ve done the exact same thing all over again.
Stepping aside to let Brooklyn pass, I watch her make her way across the living room, toward the entryway of the apartment. Mr. Kibbles is following her, whining softly.
“I should have known better than to trust a Zoric,” Brooklyn hisses.
It feels like the wind just got knocked out of me. I blink, a little stunned that she just compared me to my father. Contemptible. Criminal. Sleazy. Exploitative. Manipulative and self-serving. Maybe she didn’t fully verbalize the comparison, but that’s how I take it.
My wife sweeps by me again, collecting Mr. Kibbles’ leash, toys, and food from the kitchen. I wish I could convince her that I’m telling the truth. I really did think Guy was going to give the campaign to her, and I really did do everything I could to sell her as the next face of Maxilene. But why bother trying to earn her forgiveness and make her stay? It’s obvious that she only cares about her career. I was aware of that going into this marriage—hell, it’s written right into our marriage contract—but it still hurts.
And if she’s able to throw away our relationship so easily, I’d be a fool to try to save it. It’s clear she has no interest in working through this together if it’s so easy for her to believe the worst in me, to just walk out on our marriage like it doesn’t mean a thing.
“Where are you going?” I ask, striving for a neutral tone. I watch her clip the leash onto the dog’s collar and then whip out her cell to tap on the Uber app.
“Mateo just got a gig in LA for a few months. I’m going to stay with him since there’s nothing meaningful here for me anymore.”
I was right. Nothing I say to her will change her mind. She really believes that I booted her out of the way so that Monica could take the spotlight, and she believes I did it because the only thing I value is making money, even if it means destroying other people in the process.
So, fuck this. Fuck all of this. If that’s what she thinks of me, this entire relationship really has been a sham. I’ve worked so hard to make this work, to make us work, even if my original motive was to repair my reputation. But along the way, something changed. I changed. But she doesn’t believe it. She thinks I’m just as bad as my father, a trafficker currently on trial for his crimes. I hate that he makes me feel dirty by association, but I despise that my wife just made me feel stained by it in a way I can’t ever hope to wash away.
The worst part is, I really had faith that Brooklyn and I were going to make it.
“I can’t believe I actually cared about you when it’s obvious you don’t care about anybody but yourself,” she says, punching the button for the elevator that opens into the penthouse. “All you’ve ever done is lie to me.”
My defenses go up, way up. I feel myself shutting down, compartmentalizing, pushing away any concern that I had over her feelings. I’ve never stuck my neck out for someone the way I have for my wife. I’ve never cared enough to try to work on a relationship. I’ve never let myself fall for someone. You know why?
Because I couldn’t