“Well, you’re my friend, at least. Even if I’m not yours.”

I grit my teeth. “Way to make me feel like a bitch.”

She smiles and comes all the way into the room, bringing her medical bag with her. “I’m not trying to make you feel like anything. You have a right to feel any way you want.”

“How about trapped?” I say. “How about controlled and manipulated and betrayed?”

“If that’s how you feel, it’s valid.”

“Are you a therapist, too?”

“Therapist, OBGYN, punching bag—I’m whatever you need me to be,” she says. “Your well-being is all I’m concerned with.”

“Is that why you ratted me out the day I tried to run?”

I don’t know why I’m bringing it up now. We’ve long since put that behind us. Especially after the subsequent conversation between Kolya and me had led to our fake wedding becoming real. But I’m throwing everything that’s not nailed down to the floor, metaphorically speaking. I just want to hurt someone else, so I’m not the only one in pain.

Selfish? Yeah.

Stupid? Sure.

But human? Oh, goodness yes. Pitifully, pathetically human.

“Actually, it is,” she says without an ounce of regret. “He is trying to protect you. Women who’ve been abused end up with a skewed map of the world, June. Is it so bad that he wants to keep you safe?”

I shudder involuntarily. “It wasn’t like that. With me and Adrian, I mean. It wasn’t… that.”

“Abuse doesn’t have to be physical,” she says firmly, showing none of the reluctance I’m feeling with the big “A” word. “It takes all sorts of forms. Mental, emotional, financial, sexual.”

“Adrian and I had a complicated relationship,” I concede stubbornly. “But he didn’t, like, hurt me.”

“No? Kolya mentioned that you had a wound on your cheek the first time he spoke to you.”

My eyes go wide. “H-he told you about that?”

“He did. How did you get that, June?”

I hadn’t expected her to push back. Apparently, I’m not the only one who came in here ready for a fight. “That was—an accident.”

“An accident?” she repeats. “He meant to punch the wall and got you instead? If I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that, I wouldn’t need Kolya’s money at all.”

“He was trying to leave me with a bad memory so that his death wouldn’t hit me so hard. He wanted to give me a clean break.” Parroting his words makes me feel like a fool. Why am I trying to rewrite history? Why am I twisting myself in knots just to paint over the past? “He wanted me to be able to get on with my life.”

“Ah, I see. So he was being noble,” Sara says with obvious sarcasm. “Selfless, some might say. It hurt him worse than it hurt you, is that right?”

“I mean, yeah, his thinking was a little flawed—”

“So is his ability to tell the truth.”

I swallow back against the nausea threatening to overwhelm me. “Why would he lie?”