How ironic that I’m now using some of the money to have myself . . . entertained. I’ve drawn a reaction, just like I planned, and the words he once said are dancing at the front of my mind, egging me on. Promise me you won’t ever degrade yourself like that again. Me? What about him?
He’s speechless. His eyes are fixed on the money, and I can definitely see his suspended hand begin to shake, the wine rippling as evidence. ‘What’s this?’ he asks tightly, settling his glass down.