Page 74 of The Silver Fox Brother

"Don't make this all my fault."

I stare at him. "Whose fault is it, Rowan? Mine? For working hard? For building a career?"

"For never being present." His voice rises to match mine.

"For caring more about your design projects than us."

There it is.

Design projects.

Dismissive. Demeaning. Like everything I've built is a hobby he tolerates. My hands are fists at my sides.

"The career that just landed a three-and-a-half-million-dollar project?"

"Oh, here we go." Rowan throws his hands up.

"The Chen project. You never shut up about it."

"Because you never ASK!" I'm screaming now, don't care who hears.

"You never care about my work unless it's convenient for you!"

"That's not fair."

"What's not fair is being lied to for over a year!"

Rowan stops pacing, plants his feet, crosses his arms.

"You want the truth? Fine." His voice goes cold.

"She's easier than you. Doesn't overthink everything. Doesn't question everything I do. She just... is."

The cruelty of it steals my breath. For a moment, I can't speak. Can't move. Just stand there as his words sink in, each one a knife.

"Get out," I whisper.

"This is MY apartment." He steps closer, voice hard.

"MY name on the lease."

Something breaks inside me.

"Then I'll get out."

I move toward the closet, yank open the doors. Start grabbing clothes off hangers—dresses, blouses, skirts, anything within reach. Throw them on the bed.

Rowan follows me. "Winter, wait. I didn't mean that. I'm just angry."

I spin to face him, arms full of clothes.

"Yes you did. You meant every word."

"I'm frustrated. You're making this bigger than it needs to be."

I laugh—sharp, bitter, not remotely amused.

"You cheated on me for over a year. How is that not big?"