Page 119 of The Substitute Fiancée

Twenty minutes later, I’m ringing their doorbell.

Emelyne opens, her face closed off.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“So do I.”

Sam’s bedroom door is ajar. I push it open gently.

She’s curled up on her bed, back turned, completely still.

“Sam… I’m so sorry.”

No response. I don’t even know if she heard me.

I take off my shoes. Move closer to the bed.

Suddenly she moves, turns around, and shoves me hard.

“What are you doing here? Get out. I don’t want you.”

Her eyes are red. Dry. That’s worse than tears.

“I’m asking for your forgiveness. I know I acted like an asshole. Just let me be here for you tonight.”

“No. Get out! I don’t need you!”

There’s so much rage in her gaze it steals my breath.

“Hit me.”

She frowns.

“What?”

“I destroyed you today. You’re angry. So hit me. Show me how badly I hurt you.”

“You think I won’t?” she asks.

“I know you will.”

She jumps to her feet. Steps closer and hits me. Right in the stomach.

Fuck.

The air leaves my lungs all at once. I stagger, but I stay upright.

“That all you’ve got?” I provoke her.

Something flashes in her eyes. Wild. Unleashed.

She hits me again. And again. Just hard enough to hurt. Never hard enough to truly injure. She knows exactly where to strike and when to stop. Two inches inside the body. Just enough to leave a mark.

I back up until I hit the wall. She follows, pouring out all her anger, and I let her. I absorb every blow like a deserved penance.

Then her movements slow, losing strength. Her hands finally come to rest against my chest. And the tears finally come.

She collapses against me, shaken by silent sobs.