I burned every last piece, then reached out to the Vanishing Society. Only after I'd sent them my exact requirements did I tuck my phone away.
When I looked up, James was standing in the doorway with Marcella tucked against his side.
His eyes dropped to the brazier, brows knitting together. "What are you throwing a fit about now?"
I said nothing.
No matter what I did, in James's eyes it was always some childish tantrum.
I'd heard accusations like this more times than I could count. Once, when I still loved him, I would have fought to explain myself.
But I didn't love him anymore. I couldn't be bothered to explain anything.
Marcella's gaze grazed the brazier without lingering, then she hooked her arm through James's and shot me a taunting little smile. "Connie, surely you're not going to start playing the heartbroken martyr just because of one thing he said?"
"All this pretending you don't care about anything. You're trying to get his attention again, aren't you? Win him back?"
She put on an air of perfect understanding. "Oh, who'd have guessed it. Connie's almost thirty, and she's still throwing little-girl tantrums."
"But we're both women, so of course I can read those little games of yours."
With that, she gave James a coy push and pouted. "Aren't you going to go comfort your wife? She is the lady of the Rowe house, after all. What if she gets upset and sends someone to bully me again?"
James ruffled her hair and reassured her, indulgent. "Don't worry. She wouldn't dare touch you. I looked into last time, too. It was another one of my enemies who arranged it."
Listening to them, the hands at my sides clenched tight.
With his resources, there was no way James hadn't uncovered the truth and the person behind it.
But to keep Marcella happy, he'd still chosen to hire someone to take those photos of me, to ruin my name.
I gave a self-mocking laugh. All at once, these seven years felt like the work of a fool.
Seven whole years of my youth, wasted on a man who was never worth it.
I'd even wrecked my own health for him.
"What are you laughing at?" James's eyes sharpened, fixed on me.
I picked up a glass of water and doused the flames, calm. "Nothing. It has nothing to do with you."
With that, I had no wish to stay a moment longer. I turned and walked out.
The next day, the moment I finished canceling my identity records, James's message came through.
【Bring a box of condoms to Allure Bar. Twenty minutes.】
The same as always.
James only ever remembered protection at the last possible second, with the arrow already drawn on the string.
Sometimes, by the time I arrived, I'd walk in on the live performance.
To that kind of thing, I'd long since gone numb.
I was about to ignore it when I remembered the peace pendant hanging at his throat, the one my mother had prayed over for him.
A man like him didn't deserve to wear it.
I turned and headed to the store, bought what I needed, and hailed a cab.
I made it in fifteen minutes. I'd just raised my hand to knock when I heard the jeering through the gap in the door.
"James, you've really got a knack for this. You've trained Constance to heel so well, you say one word and she doesn't dare say two."
"Right, right. James, you got any secrets? Share some wisdom with us."
The room went quiet.
James took a drag of his cigarette and answered, idle. "First, you treat her well. Indulge every little mood, no conditions. Let her fall in deep. Then, once there's no one left around her, she'll depend on you with everything she has."
"After that, no matter how you push her away, she can't leave you. Because in her world, outside of you, there's no one else."
The words set off a wave of laughter and agreement around the room, everyone praising how brilliant his methods were.
Standing in the doorway, I felt like I'd been dropped into ice, my limbs rigid, the blood running backward through me.
For years I'd never understood the change in him. I'd always believed it was something I hadn't done well enough.
Now, hearing the truth with my own ears, I finally understood. It wasn't that I wasn't good enough. It was that some people were never worth a single ounce of my heart.
