With a vicious curse, he turned away. “Leave,” he ordered. “Now. I want you out of the house.”
“Wh–what?” She couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that he would actually toss her out.
He didn’t look at her as he said, “If you can’t be with me, if you can’t give all of yourself to me, then I want you gone.”
“Michael?” It was just a whisper, barely that.
“I can’t bear this halfway existence,” he said, his voice so low she wasn’t certain she’d heard correctly.
All she could manage to say was, “Why?”
At first she didn’t think he was going to respond. His posture became impossibly taut, and then he began to shake.
Her hand rose to cover her mouth. Was he crying? Could he be…Laughing?
“Oh, God, Francesca,” he said, his voice punctuated with derisive laughter.
“Now there’s a good one. W
