"You're angry," Andrei's voice came from behind her, softer now. "I didn't mean for you to hear that."
Suzanne finally stopped, her hands trembling at her sides. She turned around, her face flushed with a mixture of anger and humiliation. "What exactly do you expect me to feel, Andrei? Am I supposed to just accept this? Accept that I'm nothing more than a piece of furniture in your house, a convenient cover-up for whatever real life you're living?"
His face fell, his jaw tightening. "Suzanne, it's not like that."
"Then what is it like?" she spat. "What was she, to you? Your little secret? Your mistress? You sent her money and took her to Paris while I was here, playing the role of the dutiful wife?"
"I never wanted to hurt you," he said quietly. "But you've never let me in. You've kept yourself so far away."
Suzanne shook her head, her anger burning hot. "Maybe I was smart to keep my distance."
