Ella
My mind goes blank at first. Sinclair is too close to the truth, to figuring out that I’m not as immune to him as either of us would like to believe. The voice in my head is panicking, but I try to keep it together. Praying for calm, I take a deep breath, and as I exhale I recall the ability to speak.
“Because we’re supposed to be in this together, and you played me.” I murmur, speaking the truth – but not the whole truth. I can’t admit to him that I feel utterly rejected by his ploy, that I feel unwanted on a visceral level and it’s tearing me up inside for reasons I don’t yet understand. “You played me like I’m one of those reporters, or the Prince.”
Sinclair’s face twists into a grimace, and the next thing I know he’s reaching for me, “Please, come here Ella.”
“No.” I insist
