#Chapter 132 – My Man, Not Yours

“How,” I whisper, frozen, staring up at Ivan. “How did you know…” And then his face falls as I basically admit it – this thing that he’s thinking, that he’s figured out. And I can see that I’ve really, really hurt him. “Fuck you, Fay,” Ivan whispers, his voice harsh with hate. “Fuck you for picking that old, dead man over me. He’s fucked, Fay,” he shakes his head now as he stares at me like his heart is broken. “And I told you that, and offered you everything. And you picked him anyway.” And I reach out for him, desperately unhappy at his words – and to see him so hurt – and at first he swats my hand away but then – Then Ivan grabs me. And he wraps one hand around my waist, and buries the other in my hair, and pulls me against him, and kisses me like a drowning man. Like I’m the gasp of air he’ll ever breathe. I’m completely surprised by it, and swept away, and confused – But my body responds and I feel myself leaning into him as he wraps me closer against his chest,