He caught her immediately, pulling her into his arms, then turned on me with a snarl.
"Bernice, you've gone too far! Look what you've done to her! She's fragile—if something happens, can you live with that?"
"Mamie's right. You just want to own me. Let me make something clear: I'm your husband, not your possession. Stop trying to guilt-trip me with your little games."
I watched them—the perfect picture of two souls united against a common enemy. My fingertips were cold as stone. Everything inside me had frozen into a single, crystalline emotion.
Hatred.
I locked my gaze on him, and my voice came out flat and lethal.
"Oliver, whether it's real or a dream, you know the truth better than anyone. And everything you owe me? I'm going to collect. Every last cent. With interest."
I turned, pulled the door shut behind me with a sharp crack, sealing Mamie's crocodile tears and Oliver's self-righteous complaints on the other side.
Starting today, I was done. Done being the lovesick fool who forgave everything. Done being the Bernice Barnes who swallowed her pride and called it devotion.
I was taking back everything that belonged to me.