Blair stared at Roman, her mind racing through a dozen different emotions. The silence stretched between them until finally she spoke.
“You manipulated me,” she said quietly, her voice neither angry nor grateful—just stating a fact. “You let me walk in on them having sex.”
“Yes,” Roman admitted without hesitation. “I did.”
His honesty, his refusal to make excuses or justify it, somehow made it both worse but also better at the same time. Blair studied his face, looking again for signs he was sorry for what he had done. But still nothing.
“Do you regret it?” she asked because even though she couldn’t read his face, it didn't mean he wasn’t feeling something.
“I regret that you’re hurt by it. I don’t regret saving you from marrying him. I don’t regret that now you are mine.”
Blair felt
