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Except no.

That is what Bitter wants me to think.

I turn back to him.

“I believed your actions because they were different from your warnings.”

His jaw tightens.

“I thought that meant something.”

“It didn't.”

The lie comes quicker this time.

Maybe practice helps.

I nod. “Then I was wrong.”

His eyes look almost panicked.

Good.

Let him feel it.

“I won't make that mistake again.”

Something in his face cracks.

He takes one step toward me.

“Sweet.”

I step back.

He stops.

At least that still works.

I turn toward the stairs and put one foot on the first step.

Then stop.

Mama is up there.

My suitcase. My clothes. The coffee cup I kept. The bed I slept in. The couch he pretended did not hurt his back. The kitchen where he burned toast.

The place where I leaned against him and thought maybe home could happen by accident.

I cannot walk into it.

Not with everyone behind me.

Not after he stood in front of them and called me a woman he fucked.

My hand tightens around the railing.

Mercy comes beside me. “You want me to go?”