Ch. He Laughed While I Was Hit 12 He Laughed While I Was Hit 12

Chapter 12 

At seven that evening, Marco came. 

He stood alone at the door, his tie crooked, his hair a mess. 

“Open up.” 

I opened the door. 

He walked in and collapsed onto the couch. 

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. 

“Astrid, what do you want?” 

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“First, answer a question.” 

“Go ahead.” 

“Three years ago, when you were pursuing me, was Francesca arranging things behind the scenes?” 

He looked up, and something flickered in his eyes. 

“Who told you that?” 

“Answer me.” 

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“Astrid, that’s not what’s important right now.” 

“Was she?” 

He bit his lip. 

“She gave me some advice, but what I felt for you was real.” 

“Real?” 

“It was real then.” 

*Then.* 

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That was the word he chose. 

“What about now?” 

& 

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“Astrid, this isn’t the time to talk about feelings. The company—” 

“I asked, what about now?” 

He shot up from the couch and paced across the room. 

“What do you want to hear? If I say I love you, are you going to 

believe me?” 

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“No.” 

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“Then why ask?” 

He stopped by the window, his back to me. 

“The company can’t shut down production.” 

“Nineteen of our twenty-three products use your formulas.” 

“Our distributors are already demanding shipments. The 

warehouse has two weeks of inventory, at most.” 

“I know.” 

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“You know, and you still-” 

He spun around. 

“Astrid, you’re doing this to get back at me.” 

“What do you think?” 

“Fine. I’m sorry. I was an asshole yesterday.” 

“I never should have let Francesca hit you. Is that enough?” 

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