Meadow’s POV:
My breath stuttered and my eyelids fluttered. I had to physically clutch my chest through my top because his words had cut me deeply.
‘Most marriages are jokes,’ he’d said. Like ours. Like my marriage to Alaric. A contract, his need to feel touch, my need to be ruined. It wasn’t real. None of it was.
Yvonne scowled, curling her fists on the table. “I’m going to have a talk with his manager,” she gritted out, but before she could rise to her feet, I stopped her.
“Don’t,” I muttered, shaking my head. “It’s not worth it.”
‘He didn’t lie,’ I almost added.
Yvonne watched me for a moment with her head tilted, almost like she was trying to figure something out. And then she asked out of nowhere: “Is your marriage a joke, Meadow?”
My jaw ticked. “Now why on earth would you ask
