“Because Andrew would never ask me to do such a thing,” Andrea says. “You think you’re better than him, but he’s ten times the man you’ll ever be.”
Lance’s face clouds with anger. He raises his arm and slaps her across the face. Her head jerks sideways, her cheek stings and she tastes blood. She looks up at him, trying to put as much hatred as she can into one single glare. Lance looks away guiltily.
“Why didn’t you care for me, Andrea?” he asks in a low voice. “No matter how tender I was, you refused to love me. I just wanted to love you, but you never wanted me.”
Suddenly his eyes flash and his voice turns harsh and loud. “So if you don’t care about my feelings, why should I care about yours? If you don’t like it tender, maybe you’ll like it rough. Don’t pretend like you think this
