I sob till there’s nothing left in me. She doesn’t let go, still hugging me close.
“It’s not fair,” I finally mumble hoarsely into her chest. “It’s not fair.”
“I know,” she agrees, not asking me what I mean. “It’s really not.”
“I hate him.”
“I understand.” She strokes my hair, and my lips tremble.
“He was so mean to me, Harriet. He said such awful things. And I had to listen because I knew he’d kill me if I defended myself. But he was my fated mate. He wasn’t supposed to be cruel to me.”
“He was wrong, and he knows it.”
“I hate him for how he made me feel.”
Her lips press on the top of my head, and I grip her tighter.
“He said I was a substitute, that my name didn’t matter, that I didn’t matter. And now, now he’s acting as if I do matter. Why now? Why didn’t he say anything then?
