“Sign it,” he said again, calm and flat, like the years we spent together were just some expired contract. Like I had already been written off.
I took the papers from him. My hands were trembling so hard the pages rattled. Then I tore them in half. Once. Twice. Over and over, until they were nothing but scraps falling to the floor.
For a second, his eyes darkened. Then he smiled. Slow. Controlled.
He reached into his wallet, pulled out a black ATM card, and flicked it onto the coffee table.
“There’s a million dollars on that,” he said casually. “Consider it your settlement. You’ll be fine.”
Settlement.
The word burned. Like I was some long-term employee being laid off. Like my love, my body, my years meant nothing more than a payout.
Before I even realized it, I slapped him. Hard.
The sound echoed through the room. My hand stung, but my chest hurt worse.
Gusion barely reacted. He turned his head slowly, touched his cheek, and looked at me with mild curiosity.
“Do you feel better now?” he chuckled.
I grabbed the card and broke it and threw it back at him. “Keep it! I don’t want your money. I want my life back.”