TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING novel Chapter 232

CHAPTER 168: THE END OF US–1

EMBER’S POV

“Don’t compare me to Celeste.”

“Why not?” Something cruel flashes across his face – the defense mechanism I know too well, the one

where hurt converts to venom because venom is easier. “You’ve been running to Rafael all trip. Confiding

in him. Crying on his shoulder. Letting him touch you and hold you and fill your head with every reason to

leave me. How is that different from what she did?”

“It’s COMPLETELY different and you know it-”

“Is it? Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly the same, A woman who says she wants me but keeps one foot pointed toward the exit. A woman who takes what I offer and then looks around to see if

someone better is available.”

“I have NEVER-”

“The gallery. An hour alone with him. Oh, come on. I’m not stupid. That painting the fucking painting – where he’s captured you in oil like you’re already his.”

“He’s not-”

“You’re just like her.”

Three words. Quiet as a knife entering flesh.

“You’re just like Celeste. Pretty words about wanting to stay, and the second things get hard, you find someone else to make you feel better about leaving.”

The pain is exquisite. It’s a deep one that crushes something inside me. The kind that starts at the center of your chest and radiates outward until it occupies every cell of your body and there’s no room left for anything else.

I stare at him. This man I love. This man I was going to choose. This man who just compared dead wife in front of the only people left in the room.

me to his

“You know, that is not fair, Knox.” My voice cracks, eyes blurring. A severe ripping of the bones and veins and everything that makes my heart beat. “That is not fair. But I get it – after being the worst man any woman could ask for, you find someone else to blame for your inability to love. You find someone to blame for your self–sabotage and your walls and the fact that you are incapable of anything long term. Maybe Celeste’s death was mercy. Maybe you saved her from a miserable life of being stuck with you.”

The room goes cold, and Knox’s face only goes colder.

I just crossed a line, and I know it.

I know it because my own words sink so deep that they crush whatever is left of my hurt

but there is

that need to hurt him too.

That need to rip him apart the way he has with me. The way he has somehow sunk those invisible claws

into my chest and taken out everything that makes me breathe.

And his next words are the icing on the worst cake in history.

He turns to Rayana. She hasn’t moved from her chair, horror calcified on her expression – horror and

sadness and so much disappointment.

“Switzerland,” Knox says. “Now.”

“S–Switzerland?” Rayana chokes out.

“Yes Now. We’re leaving.”

My heart pounds, panic shooting up my spine.

“Knox, if you walk out that door with her,” I say, and my voice doesn’t shake, and I’m proud of that even as everything inside me is collapsing, “don’t come back. Not to me. Not ever.”

Knox meets my eyes.

And for one second one single, devastating second – I see everything he’s feeling.

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