Elena's POV
I pressed my back against the door, gripping my phone tight.
Half of me expected the door to rattle, with Dorian trying to force his way in, maybe demanding to know why I'd turned so cold on him.
Part of me ached to explode, to unleash everything at him, while another part desperately wanted to guard my secret.
I let out a slow breath, waiting, praying someone else would make the choice for me. I counted to ten, and when the door stayed shut, I trudged to the couch and collapsed into it.
"Still pathetic," I whispered, disgusted by my need for Dorian to chase after me despite everything I'd learned.
I sighed again, fighting to control my racing emotions.
Sleep had barely come last night—partly from work stress, mostly because I couldn't shake what I'd discovered.
Today had just confirmed I was the one living in fantasy. Dorian showing up with his wife said it all.
