Chapter 126

Clifford's eyes remained fixed on the television.

"Where have you been?" he asked without looking at her.

Latisha kept her head down. He wasn't looking at her, so she couldn't explain, and it was clear he didn't want an explanation anyway.

She sat on the opposite sofa and signed, *Have you eaten?*

Clifford finally turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a barely concealed mix of mockery and coldness. "Why the pretense?"

Latisha froze. His icy tone sent a wave of suffocation through her.

"You're so desperate to divorce me, yet here you are, putting on this act," Clifford said. "Latisha, I never realized what a good actress you are."

Her hands clenched, and she looked at him, utterly lost.

He wasn't wrong. The thought of divorce often crossed her mind—when she was alone, when she saw his favoritism toward Yesenia, and especially at night. Her thoughts were more extreme then, like decisions made just before sleep, always tinged with regret the next day. She had even considered asking Zadok about divorce before deciding to focus only on Mrs. Dashiell's case.

How could she possibly explain the complex, contradictory storm of emotions inside her? She couldn't.

In a way, Clifford was right.

His eyes locked onto hers. "Nothing to say?"

Latisha clutched the hem of her shirt and chose silence.

He stared at her for a long moment before leaning back, his expression returning to a calm mask. "Latisha, I'll say it again: it doesn't matter who you find. Don't be so naive."

She looked at him in shock, more confused than ever. Why, if he loved Yesenia so much, would he deny her a home with him? And if he disliked Latisha so intensely, finding her a disgrace he couldn't stand to be seen with, why wouldn't he let her go?

Was it because of his promise to his grandpa, Darby? Was he truly a man who honored his word so fiercely?

Clifford tilted his head slightly. "Come here."

Latisha hesitated before rising and walking over to him.

He grabbed her hand and gave a gentle tug. She lost her balance and

tumbled onto his lap. His arm

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wrapped around her waist, and he leaned in, bis voice low whisper in her ear. "Tell me, who put this idea of divorce in your head?"

Startled, she turned and met his gaze. His eyes were dark and bottomless, revealing nothing.

As she stared at him, his voice suddenly sharpened, rising in volume. “Well? Who was it?"

The sudden shout made her flinch. Terrified, she tried to pull away, but he gripped her wrist, holding her fast.

"Latisha, have I been too lenient with you? Is that why you treat my words like they're nothing? Hmm?"

His grip was crushing. Pain shot up her arm, and her eyes welled with tears. She struggled against him, but he held her tight.

"Why aren't you saying anything? Why won't you speak?"

The calm composure he had worn just moments ago shattered, replaced by a twisted, almost ferocious look.

She was terrified of him like this. He

was like a different person, a

madman. She fought harder,

desperate to escape He yanked her

back by the wrist and threw her onto

the sofa.

Her head spun, the familiar wave of dizziness washing over her. She squeezed her

eyes shut as the world tilted and spun around her.

Clifford seized her chin, his voice a low growl. “Look at me.”

She forced her eyes open, her vision blurred with tears as she looked up at him. He stared into her eyes, deep calming breath before

taking a deep calm

speaking again, his voice now dangerously quiet. "Don't force me to do something I don't want to do. Do you understand?"