Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Nope.
Nope, it certainly did not.
Now she was covering herself with a pillow. Hiding from him.
Apologize. Right the hell now.
“Tell me this isn’t one of the reasons you’re going back to New York,” he growled instead, because he had obviously lost full control of his faculties. The green smoke growing thicker and thicker inside his chest was manning all battle stations. This finance guy was utterly perfect for August’s wife—who he was fucking in love with, by the way—and the whole time they’d been making love, she’d been sad about the asshat marrying someone else.
She’d just turned him inside out in that bed and the possibility she’d been on a different page was eating him alive.
“I am not required to deny anything to you,” Natalie said, lips barely moving. Uh-oh. Now there was a whole slew of snakes gunning for his balls, fangs out. “Nothing has changed between us. The original agreement still stands. We’re in this for the money and that’s it. Now get out of my room.”
His heart climbed up into his mouth and he swallowed it, the whole aching mass of it getting stuck in his throat. “Once I’m out, it’s going to be really hard to convince you to let me back in.”
“Oh, you have no idea, shithead.”
“I’m jealous, Natalie,” he said hoarsely. “I’m jealous.”
“You know what, August? I don’t care. You don’t get to say whatever you want because you’re feeling a particular way. That doesn’t excuse anything. You have to learn to take the information given to you by your brain and stop your mouth from interpreting it first.”
“Because it hurts your feelings.”
“Yes,” she whispered, then seemed to regret it. “No. Out.”
More than anything, he was angry with himself in that moment. Pissed beyond measure. Frustration built higher and higher, any remaining thread of control slipping from his fingers. He couldn’t do anything right. Couldn’t make Natalie happy for longer than a few measly minutes at a time. Couldn’t do justice to Sam’s dream. Couldn’t interpret brain shit, either, apparently. What good was he doing anyone?
Giving Natalie breathing room was probably the right thing to do, but he couldn’t seem to make himself leave the room. He simply remained there, an inanimate object with his hand on the knob. No, he couldn’t walk away. That’s what they’d both done at the end of every fight, since the beginning, and it had hurt their relationship every time.
He’d lose her unless something changed.
Her feelings were hurt because of him, and he wasn’t just going to abandon her.
August turned around. “What can I do to make this better, Natalie?”
Her chin snapped up. “Besides light yourself on fire?”
“Preferably.”
“I don’t know, August.” She sighed.
“Tell me how you feel right now.” He ventured a cautious step toward the bed. “That seems like a good start.”
“Mad.” For a second, he thought she might leave it at that, but she threw up a hand and let it drop. “A little empty.”
A hoarse sound left him. And it occurred to him that storming away was definitely easier. This was the hard part. Hearing what he’d done wrong and how he’d hurt her. Was that what made a marriage last? Doing the hard shit? “Why empty?”
“Because I was . . .” She glanced down at the messy sheets. “I let myself trust you and you didn’t trust me back. You made me drop my armor and then, I don’t know, it’s like I’m being punished for it.”
Her words dug into him like slivers of glass. Christ, that was worse than he’d imagined. What would he have learned by now if he’d just spoken to her like this after all of their arguments? He’d be wiser than Doctor Strange. “God, I’m sorry.”
“I know.” She laughed without humor. “That’s the thing. I know you’re sorry. I know that so many of your choices aren’t made to hurt me, even though they do.”
So . . . many of his choices?
What else was he doing to hurt her?
He racked his memory bank and came up with nothing. “Natalie, what am I . . .” Out of nowhere, an idea lit up the nether regions of his brain. “I can read you the rest of my wedding vows. Will that make you feel better?”
Was that reluctant interest he sensed? “There was more?”
“Yup. Don’t move.” On a mission now, he jogged through the house, which sent Menace into near hysterics, and barged through the half-open door of his bedroom. Where did he put them? Where?
Bedside table.
August snatched up the yellow, lined piece of paper and ran back out of the room, skidding to a halt a few seconds later at the foot of Natalie’s bed.
He cleared his throat dramatically, but she wasn’t ready to smile yet. Fair enough. He’d be lucky if she simply lost that hollow look in her eyes by the time he finished reading.