Amaya
I was pretty sure I did a solid job keeping up the front that the two of us had built together. But this time, I was building up a front of my own, as well. The last time I had been here, those lines between reality and unreality had been so blurred, too blurred, as I’d found myself seduced by his sweetness, by the way his family treated me and the way they seemed to embrace me. But now I just sat there and quietly ate the food and let Kristo do the talking, ignoring his hand where it came to rest on my upper back, ignoring the way his fingers traced casual shapes on my neck the whole time. Did he know how torturous this was for me? Did he know how much it hurt, to have him play the loving husband but know we were returning to separate beds and separate lives as soon as this was ove
