12 Do You Love Him?

"Do you really want to marry him?" He finally asked, his teeth clenched, after I could feel the strain in my neck.

"Isn’t that what you wanted? When Angelo proposed to me, wasn’t your frustration because I hesitated? I said yes, and now you’re unhappy—what’s your problem? Isn’t this what serves your purpose?"

He let out a cold laugh, his hands sliding down from where they had been pressing against the seat beside my ears. We were now almost touching, and the proximity was unbearable.

His breath was too close, too warm—strangely warm for someone like him.

"Do you love him?"

That question was impossible for me to answer. My rational mind was useless when dealing with Marco. To fight back against him, I blurted out, "I don’t know if I love him, but I certainly don’t love you."

Only after the words left my mouth did I realize I had provoked him, and so I went silent.

He grabbed my face, and I could feel that if he applied any more force, he could easily break my neck.

"I’ll ask you one mo