Summer was too tired to explain anything to him. She was drained emotionally, mentally. She had explained countless times that she had never cheated on him. She had cried, pleaded, and reasoned, defending herself. Yet, none of that mattered to him.
Gideon had carved his own version of truth in his mind. To him, she was a manipulator, a liar, a woman who had betrayed him in their marriage and bore another man's child. Nothing she said could change that.
What was the point of clarifying again?
"Think whatever you want," she hissed, pushing against him hard. "This is my life. I'll do what I want and see whoever I want. I don't need your permission. Now get off me."
Her defiance only worked as fuel to the already burning fire.
"You are finally accepting it," he growled, leaning closer. "Admitting you cheated on me with him. He is the one—Hope's biological father."
A brittle sigh escaped her lips. She was too tired to continue this argument.
