"I've been biting my tongue this whole time. Even if you had a lapse in judgment and made those videos, I was willing to look the other way!"
"So why do you have to keep pushing? Why are you bullying him?"
My mind went blank.
The pain in my chest made it impossible to breathe.
This woman—who had occupied a full third of my life, who had held my hand just an hour ago, who had promised to grow old with me—didn't believe me.
What was the point of this engagement anymore?
"Fine. If we can't sort this out here, then you're coming with me to the police station."
I reached past Dora to grab Guy.
A grown man in his twenties—yet he recoiled like a rabbit facing the butcher's knife, thrashing in wide-eyed terror.
"Mr. Fox! Mr. Fox, save me! I think he's trying to kill me!"
I ignored his wailing completely, dragging him toward the exit.
Dora rushed over and pried at my grip on Guy's arm.
When I wouldn't let go, she wound back and slapped me across the face.
Crack.
The sound cut through the banquet hall like a gunshot. The room fell silent.
Half my face went numb, then burned—like a thousand needles stabbing at once. My right ear rang with a high-pitched whine.