I blinked.
Then I scoffed. “You mean the part where you split my skull open? That little incident?”
Bianca flinched—then immediately ducked behind Troy.
“Wait… is she going to hurt me again?” she whimpered. “Brother, I’m scared.”
Troy stood between us.
“No,” he said calmly. “She’s not.”
Then he turned to me, jaw clenched. “Apologize to her. Now.”
My chest constricted.
“What?”
“You heard me,” he snapped. “We already talked about this. You’re going to apologize. She’s shaken. She’s still scared. It’s the least you can do.”
I stared at him, blinking through the haze of disbelief.
“You want me to apologize,” I said slowly, “to the woman who assaulted me?”
“She’s my stepsister,” he said.
“I don’t care if she’s the queen of England.”
“She didn’t mean to hurt you. It was a misunderstanding. You provoked her by maxing out my card… and by not giving that dress when you can just let her have it.”
“Once,” I snapped. “One time. In two years of marriage. I never asked for anything. I never touched your money. But the moment I do, I’m a gold digger? And dress? She didn’t want it. She wanted it because it was mine just like she wanted you because you’re mine!”
“She was just trying to protect me,” he repeated. “She thought you were taking advantage of me…and no! I’m not yours!”
“Ah, right. You’re not mine, but you get to call me yours? That’s unfair, then.”
He didn’t answer.
Bianca peeked out from behind him with wide, innocent eyes, but her smirk was already forming underneath.
That was it. I stepped back, breathing hard.
“Let’s make it fair then because I’m done,” I said. “I’m not doing this anymore. I’m not apologizing. I want a divorce, Troy Green.”
“No.”
Troy’s voice was firm, final. “I’m not signing anything, Thalia.”
I turned to face him, my expression carefully blank. Every muscle in my body screamed to lash out, but I swallowed it all down. I’d been doing that for so long now.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he added, as if his words could erase everything that had already been done. “Don’t be so dramatic. Everything’s going to be alright. Now get in the car. Bianca’s tired from the trip. She needs to go home.”
I laughed—a loud, bitter sound that felt like it might rip me in half. There it was—the truth I’d known in my gut all along. I’d never get a divorce. Not from a man like him. Not unless I ran away.