My whole body and face were numb like I had Novocain running through my veins.

Roland had walked to the bar, paid the bill in cash, thrown like garbage in front of Cade. I thought there would be a full-on fight until Cade turned around, leaving the money where it was, then charging through the kitchen doors.

The image of Cade turning from Roland, muscles tense and storming back through the kitchen, would give me nightmares for an eternity.

An overwhelming sense of loss overtook me, my misery so great that my chest ached with physical pain.

I shook and unwillingly followed Roland out of the bar as a nauseating sinking of despair made my stomach roll.

The four-karat, internally-flawless diamond felt like a two-ton weight that could sink me at any moment. I almost wished it would. I'd rather die than marry someone who didn't respect me.

After our families had gone their separate ways, I flipped toward Roland, my face stern, my insides defeated. "We need to talk."

Without my family or his family, without the spectacle of a crowd, or the eyes of my ailing father on me, my backbone had grown back. This was not happening. Not now. Not ever.

And maybe he knew it, too, because his happy, cheery demeanor was replaced with a cold one. "Meet me back at the apartment." He dropped my hand like it was hot coal and clicked the unlock button of his beamer without a look back.

I debated on following him to our once-upon-a-time place, the residence I used to call home but decided I needed to speak my mind and clear the air. After parking in my usual spot, I followed Roland inside. We were silent on our way up the elevator to the penthouse floor.

When we entered the condo, he threw his keys on the counter, undid his tie, and slipped out of his suit jacket.

He was pissed. Pissed for what, though? He’d gotten what he wanted.

"Roland ...” I lay one strong hand on my hip and pointed to the door. “Back there, at the restaurant ... I don’t know what that was. But I didn’t say yes.”

He turned to face me, his eyes blazing. The change in demeanor caught me off guard, jamming my next words in my throat.

"This is the next progression for us, Angelica. We're getting married." The finality in his tone had me wondering what he was smoking and the despair I felt moments ago turned into something—disgust.

Chin out, bitch face on. "No. We're not."

He ran one aggravated hand through his hair and turned away, huffing as he stomped to the bar and poured himself a glass of scotch.

I clenched my fists, ready to fight this, fight with him. If this was what he wanted, I’d give it to him. I knew what would make him listen. What would get through his thick skull, through his pride, through his stubbornness?

"I slept with another man." I braced myself, waiting for his wrath, the backlash from my indiscretion.

He turned around, and his reaction was stoic because he already knew.

The shock of discovery hit me full force. "You knew, didn't you?" My heart thumped hard. "My mother told you." I staggered back a step, as though hearing the words from my mouth made them truer.

And like pieces of a puzzle falling together, everything that had happened today became so vividly clear. "The fact that we were at that restaurant was not a mistake, was it?" I gritted my teeth, my nails digging into my palms. "Nor was the fact that you proposed today." It hurt. Everything hurt. If I wasn't so riddled with anger, I'd curl up into a ball and start crying. My mother had tag-teamed with Roland to trap me, but this was going to backfire in their face.

"You didn't hear me,” I said louder. “I slept with another man."

He had pride and dignity. There was no way he'd take me back.

"Your mom told me you were seeing him. Yes.” His voice was cool and emotionless. “But I didn't assume anything." He tipped back his glass, taking a long swig of the scotch and poured himself some more of the copper-colored liquid.

"And now that you know? What? You don't care?" My tone came out loud, hysterics bubbling up my windpipe.

His jaw tightened, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out at first.

I wanted to hurt him because I was hurt. But then he said, "I do care. And what matters now is that I forgive you."

I blinked, unsure I’d heard him correctly. How could a man take back a woman who’d slept with another man that quickly? Someone he supposedly loved and wanted to marry? None of this made any sense. "Forgive me? For what, exactly? We aren’t together." My voice could’ve cut through glass.

When he didn't answer, I stomped my feet and threw both hands in the air. "For what? I want to hear what you forgive me for."

That lifted the fog of calm from his demeanor. He glared at me with burning reproachful eyes. "For fucking someone else when I've been faithful to you year after year.” His temper flared, and anger reddened his face. “When I've been there for you through everything. That's what!" He shouted back, frustrated, but not hurt. There was no hurt behind his eyes.

I shook my head, the fight draining out of me. Clearly, I wasn’t going to convince him of anything. "We were done when I was with Cade. I just want you to know that. And, yes, you may have never slept with anyone else, but there was always work in our relationship. You cheated on me for years with your crazy job."

"That's different, and you know it." He gripped my hand fiercely, the one that held the ten-ton anchor on my finger. "You're leaving him," he said with finality. "I'm not losing you to him."

I almost laughed. "Losing me?" What didn't he get? “You lost me many months ago.”

I gritted my teeth, finally seeing the truth—his truth. "This isn't about me anymore. This isn't about you wanting me because you think you can't live without me. This is about you winning." I tore my hand from his, my body shaking with my newfound realization.

My trembling fingers flew to my throat. It hurt to see Roland, the man I’d grown up loving for so long turn into someone I hardly recognized anymore. A man that didn’t want to keep me because he loved me, but only because he wanted to win. He clearly stopped loving me long before we got to this point.

"It is, isn't it?” I asked, in a low tormented tone. “You just don't want to lose me to him or anyone. You don't want to lose." My voice was small, barely audible as the realization set in. And the truth would set you free, they said. Above pride, above dignity, Roland didn't like to lose.

His laughter had an edge, cynical even. "You're crazy."

I placed both hands against my chest. "Crazy? Me? I just told you I slept with another man and here you are telling me you want me back in the blink of an eye and that you forgive me." He didn’t even react, and I went on, my throat aching with desperation. "My mother found out about Cade and me a mere two days ago, and she tells you, and what do you do? You don't get mad. You try to trap me, but you know what, Roland? Like the billion times I've tried to tell you before—I'm done."

"You're wearing my ring," he said matter-of-factly.

I threw both hands up, unbelieving what I was hearing. "Not by choice. Everyone was there, and you backed me in a corner. You can't believe for a second that my silence meant yes."

"Stop acting crazy." His voice boomed with commanding authority.

This was pointless, the back and forth, the cunning cut downs.

I was done. Officially done with this conversation and endlessly done with Roland.

"You know what?" I said, turning to walk out of the room. "I am crazy. Crazy for another man." There it was, loud as a boom of fireworks in a silent night sky. My truth.

I placed the ring on the counter, walked out of the room, and out of his life for good.