“She’s my sister,” he said coldly. “She was just trying to protect me. You went on a shopping spree like you were emptying my account. What did you expect?”
“That was the first time I used your card. Ever. I’m your wife.”
“She is my stepsister.”
I blinked. “What?”
I felt something inside me crack.
“You’re choosing her over me,” I said. “Your wife.”
He didn’t even hesitate.
“Yes.”
The word dropped like a blade.
I sucked in a sharp breath, but it felt like my lungs refused to expand.
“That’s unfair! I almost died!”
“Yet, you didn’t. You know her. It’s just her temper, okay? And she didn’t mean it. I grounded her for a day, and took her card. That’s done.”
“No, that’s not done—”
He shook his head like I was the one being unreasonable.
“I’m not having this conversation again. You’re going to apologize to her. End of story.”
He turned to leave.
“Take a rest,” he added without looking back. “I still need to take care of my sister. She was traumatized seeing you like that, you were covered in blood.”
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
I sat there in silence. Blood still crusted around my scalp. A dull ache bloomed in my skull.
And the only person who should’ve held me… left me again.