Ian forced himself to hold her gaze, no matter how much he wished to be anywhere else but here, in this room. With her. With the truth.
“And what sort of life did you plan on giving him? A cozy little cottage for two? A white picket fence?”
“If that’s what he wants,” Ian answered, meaning it.
His response enraged her; she erupted in a fury. “How can you not see what Adam has done? Are you truly that stupid? That desperate for attention?”
Ian tried protesting but couldn’t get the words out. The cruelty of them, as well as the tiny kernels of truth that he had long considered but couldn’t bear. Now they were getting inside, making him question things. Question Adam but no, that wasn’t true. Adam could be many things at many different times. But never false, never untrue to Ian, nor himse
