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“But we won’t be soon. I already asked my attorney to draw up the divorce papers.”
I am taken back and cover my mouth with my hand. “Already?”
“You don’t love me. There is no reason to prolong this charade any longer. I’m sure you’ll be glad to get away from me. Especially when my company is in peril and sinking.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered to me. I don’t need money to make me happy.”
“But you did,” he throws back. “It’s the reason why you entered into this marriage, to begin with, was it not?”
“Does the reason make any difference?”
“It does to me. Could you love me without the money?”
I step back. “You make me out to be a gold digger. This didn’t start with love. It was a business arrangement that turned into love.”
“And now?”
“Nothing. You set the wheels in motion to end this.” I lean down to pull the potato chip bag from under the bed before sweeping the candy wrappers off the top of the dresser.
“You don’t have to clean up. Take the rest of your things and go,” Foster growls.
“What’s going on with you?” I ask, done with his attitude. “You can’t give up!”
“You’re giving up on me.”
“It’s not as simple as you make it seem.”
Standing, he reaches me in three strides. Grabbing the chip bag from my hand, he drops it to the floor and hauls me against his body, pinning me to the dresser. His hair is a mess, and his eyes are bloodshot and wild. His ripe masculine scent catches in my nose, and as distressing as it should be, his aggression is turning me on.
I let Foster gather my hair and gently tug, so my face turns up to his. “I should fuck you properly, then maybe you would love me again.”
I glare. “Christ, Foster, it wasn’t about sex. We had a good sex life, and then nothing. You’ve lost yourself. You’re not the man I fell in love with.”
“I can be that man again,” he stresses. “Give me a chance.”
“You make no sense. First, you tell me to get out, and you want a divorce, now you want me to give you a chance? I think you’re confused.”
Foster lets me go and retreats until he’s sitting on the corner of his unmade bed. He rubs at his temples with his stained hands and closes his eyes. “I am confused, but I’ve spent the past few days thinking.”
I go to him, stroking his unruly hair. “About what?”
“My life. Our life. I fucked it all up. I should’ve gotten to know you first. You deserve better, much better.” He gently pushes me away. “Go. I don’t want you poisoned by me any longer. You need someone who will treat you the way you should be. You’re too good for me, Paige Butler. You always were.”
“Black. My name is Paige Black.”
“Go, before I damage you further.”
“I want to take care of you,” I admit.
“Get the fuck out of here before I have you forcibly removed!” Foster screams, sending me reeling into the wall. “I’ll send your things to your new apartment.”
His words hit me. “You knew?”
“I know everything, including using my ex as your agent. Did you have a good talk? Did Erika tell you all the lurid details of our relationship? Run Paige, before I break your heart.”
I burst into tears. “You already have!”
I don’t remember getting into the elevator or landing on the street. The combination of my tears and the rain falling by the bucketload blind me. I stumble to Zane’s apartment, squeezing out the skirt of my dress once I am under the overhang to the building. The concierge lifts an eyebrow, and I realize why when I step in the elevator and catch sight of myself in the mirrored walls. The rain made my mascara run in dirty black rivulets down my cheeks. I look like a clown. I try rubbing at it with my fingers but soon give up.
