Page 107 of Trapped

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I swear?—”

I let go of her chin, sneering. “It’s like you said. This relationship was always about money. Securingyourfuture.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Do you even care who you’re fucking? As long asyouget what you want?” A dark flush spread across her cheeks, and a mean flare of victory heated my chest. “I did see this coming. It’s not like I didn’t know exactly what you are.”

The second those words landed, I knew they’d hurt. I felt the pain inside me as I saw it reflected on her face.

“That’s rich, coming from you. You used your money to control me from the beginning, and now you want to act like I’m the one to blame?”

“You didn’t hesitate to take it. You’ve been using me since the start.”

Delilah’s eyes flashed. “Ineededyou. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” I stepped closer, towering over her. “You wanted me to think you were a gold digger, and now you’re pissed when I throw it back in your face? That’s on you, Delilah.”

Her lip trembled, but she clenched her jaw. I should’ve stopped, but I couldn’t. The rage burned too hot inside me.

“You want to talk about trust? You’ve been lying to me since the day we met. Hiding things, going behind my back, always keeping your secrets close. What else are you hiding from me?”

I saw the exact moment I crossed the line. It hit something deep inside her. She shut down, her entire body tensing like she was trying to protect herself.

“Delilah.”

It was too late. I’d already lit the fuse. Delilah stepped back, her body rigid. Nostrils flaring, she stormed out of the room. Banging sounds erupted in the kitchen. She’d thrown open all the cabinet doors and was rifling through the shelves in the pantry, searching desperately.

My heart ached. “Fuck.”

She set aside bottles of olive oil and canola, probably looking for cooking wine. No use. I’d thrown all that shit out. Regret formed a ball in my throat.

“Can we talk about this?”

“Why bother? I’m just a whore to you.”

I winced. “I didn’t say that.”

“You say I’m the one using you,” she hurled back, her arm knocking over the bottles of cooking oil. “But you act like you can buy me, like I’m not even a real person.”

I rubbed my face. “Delilah?—”

“Just leave me alone, Santino.”

Guilt sat heavy in my lungs.

“Delilah, there’s no alcohol in the house.”

She wasn’t listening. She still rooted around, searching behind cans of garbanzo beans for a drop of alcohol that didn’t exist. Finally, she stopped, slumping on the kitchen floor. She bowed her head in her hands, and her shoulders shook.

I couldn’t stand this. I was crumbling inside. I opened my mouth to fix the rift tearing us apart. But what could I say? That I was scared? That every fear was tied up in her? That I didn’t know how to love without also trying to control?

Delilah wiped her cheeks, her gaze hardening. “If I’m just a gold digger to you, then maybe you’re right, and there’s nothing left for us here.”

My stomach sank. “Do you remember when we first met?”

She nodded, sniffing.