Chapter 21:
June rose from her chair. Her hands pressed flat against the table, trembling slightly.
“I acted like I loved a lot of things,” she said, looking directly at Cole. “I acted like I loved your coldness. I acted like I loved being invisible. I acted like I was happy.” She touched the place on her sweater where the scars lay hidden beneath.
“I ate your food for four years to keep the peace. I starved myself to fit into the dresses you preferred. I made myself small so you could feel large.”
The room was absolutely still. Grandmother Compton sat with her hands folded, nodding slowly, an expression of grim and quiet approval on her face.
“I’m done acting,” June said. “I’m not eating this. And I’m not swallowing your lies anymore.”
She dropped her napkin onto the plate, covering the red stain.
“I’m leaving.”
Cole sat motionless. He looked at the food. He thought back through the years — all the times she had eaten it, sweating quietly, reaching again and again for her water glass. He had thought it was endearing.
He had not known it was suffering.
What else had he not known?
𝘠𝗼𝘂𝘳 𝗻ex𝘁 𝘧𝖺𝘃𝗈𝘳іt𝘦 𝘳𝗲a𝖽 іs o𝗇 𝗴𝖺𝘭ոоvelѕ.𝖼𝗼𝘮
Night had settled over the estate. The rain had stopped, leaving a heavy, damp silence in its wake.
June zipped her duffel bag closed. The recorder was hidden in the lining. Grandmother’s heirloom bracelet — slipped into her pocket earlier with a quiet wink — was safe against her hip.
She opened the bedroom door.
Cole was leaning against the opposite wall, still in his dinner clothes, tie undone. The smell of scotch reached her before he spoke.
“Going somewhere?”
“New York,” June said, moving to step past him.
He blocked her path and held out a folded piece of paper.
A check.
June looked at it. Ten million dollars.
“What is this?”
“A settlement,” Cole said, his voice slightly unsteady. “Take it. Call off the divorce. We can — we can fix this. You can stay in the guest house if you want. Just stop all of this.”
He still did not understand. He thought it was a negotiation. He thought she was simply holding out for a higher number.
June took the check from his hand.
Cole visibly relaxed. “Good. I knew you were reasonable. Go deposit it tomorrow and —”
The sound of tearing paper split the quiet hallway.
June ripped the check in half. Then into quarters. Then into small, scattered pieces.
She threw them into his face.
“You think you can buy me?” she said, her voice low and precise. “You think I’m Alycia? You think I’m someone you can pay to stay?”
Cole flinched as the paper fell around him. His expression shifted from shock to cold fury.
“Don’t you dare compare her to —”
“I’m worth more than ten million, Cole,” June said. “My dignity is not for sale.”
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