Page 60 of The Temptation of Truth

“You’ve gained a lot of weight since we got married. Really since we got engaged, but even more since we got married.”

I feel like I’ve been punched, and all it does is make me want to swing back harder.

“I’ve gained twenty pounds, and part of that is regaining what I lost after my parents and brother died. Remember that? When they fuckingdied, and I wasdepressedandstopped fucking eating?”

“You don’t have to swear at me, Aurora.”

“Oh, I’ll say whatever the fuck I want, Brady.”

“Jesus, if I knew you’d react like this, I wouldn’t have said anything.”

“How the fuck did you think I’d react when my husband, someone who is supposed to love me unconditionally, someonewho knows everything I’ve been through, told me I’dlet myself go?”

“I thought you’d apologize and see reason, not make excuses. The weight you’ve gained isn’t just from what you lost when you were sad. You’re bigger than you ever were, and it’s been years. It sucks that they were in an accident, but you can’t blame that anymore.”

When I was sad.

When. I. Was.Sad.

I grit my teeth as tears once again flood my eyes, falling into tracks that haven’t yet dried. These tears are different, though. They’re hot and angry. They burn. If I wasn’t huddled on the floor of this bathroom in a suite I’m sharing with someone else, I’d probably be shouting. I’d probably be pacing and irate. I take a deep breath, but my voice is still shaking when I speak in a harsh, strained whisper.

“I wasn’t just sad, Brady. I was depressed. And it wasn’t justan accident. My whole family fucking died. They’re dead. I will never see them or speak to them again. I lost everything?—”

“You didn’t lose everything. Don’t be dramatic. We gave you everything you needed.”

“You weren’t my family, Brady! Your parents are great, but they aren’tmyparents. It’s not the same thing.”

“Wow. Wow, Aurora. Not your family? That’s a fucked-up thing to say, considering my parents put a roof over your head and paid for everything you needed.”

“Oh, please. Your parents didn’t pay for shit. Uncle Wade paid for everything.”

He scoffs. “I don’t even know who I’m talking to right now. You’ve only been with those rock stars for a couple weeks and you’re already a totally different person. You’re so ungrateful. After everything we did for you? You’re being cruel.”

At first, I want to scream. I want to reach through the phone and shake him. I want to thrash against every chain of obligation and grief that has been weighing me down for the last few years. But then his words crash through the fog of rage surrounding me, and I crumple. My muscles seize, my body hunches in on itself, and I feel terrible.

What am I doing? What am I even saying?

I don’t want to be cruel. I don’t want him to think I’m ungrateful. I’m grateful for everything the Sinclairs did for me. I am. I love his parents. If it weren’t for their kindness, the changes would have been so much more drastic.

The Sinclairs saved me.Bradysaved me.

God, I’m terrible. I’m so fucking terrible.

“I’m sorry.” The words escape on a choked sob. “I’m so sorry. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything, and as the silence stretches, my thoughts grow louder.

I’m so terrible. My parents and brother would be disappointed. The Sinclairs’ hearts would be broken. Iamcruel and ungrateful. He doesn’t deserve this.

My husband expels another sigh. It’s long, drawn-out, and cuts like a knife.

“I’ll send you the information about diet and exercise that I found. Just...I don’t know. We’ll talk later.”

He hangs up. No goodbye. No I love you. No forgiveness.

I drop the phone to the floor and cover my mouth with my hand. I try to quiet my sobs, but they grow more violent, shaking my body and stealing my breath. Anger, fear, and guilt tangle into knots in my stomach, and I curl myself into a ball along with them. I lie on the floor and press my cheek to the cool tile, feeling it pool with my tears. I press my hand harder against my lips, but every ragged inhale cracks and suctions, and every forceful exhale refuses to be contained.

I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want tobelike this. I don’t want any of it, and that makes me cry harder. Brady deserves better. He’s my best friend. He’s myonlyfriend. I’m terrible. I love him. I don’t want to get pregnant. I love him, but I don’t want him. I owe him. He’s my family. I feel trapped.