different person.
Yet I still want him more than I’m willing to admit.
“Why were you covering your eyes?” he says, his voice low and thick, full of lust.
“Because if I can’t see you, then I don’t have to accept that I’ve really allowed myself to be so weak by letting you in my bed. I shouldn’t want . . .”
My words are cut off, because Max backs off the bed. Then he surprises me because he does something I don’t expect—he actually flinches and his eyes flash with pain. Holy shit, my words hurt him.
“I didn’t . . .” I try to say but he jerks his jeans on, hands trembling.
Oh my God, he’s hurt.
I sit up quickly and scurry off the bed. “Max, I didn’t mean it like that, I just . . .”
He puts his back to me. Fuck. Shit.
“You know what?” he says, his back to me, his voice icy. “You can go and get fucked.”
I flinch. “Max,” I choke out. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
He spins, glaring at me, but I don’t miss the glassy look his eyes have got, or how they’re slightly red at the sides. Full of emotion.
“Didn’t you?” he spits. “Fuck me, I don’t know why the hell I came back here. What did I honestly expect from you?”
“You can’t possibly mean that,” I say, my voice trembling. “Jesus, Max, do you honestly think I would just forget everything you did to me?”
“Because you’re so fucking perfect, aren’t you?” he roars.
I take a shocked step back. His voice is loud and terrifying.
“I did what I had to do . . .”
“No.” He laughs bitterly. “You gave up on your husband and hid his child from him.”
His words shock me so much I just stand there, speechless.
“Yeah,” he grunts. “But you’re so fucking perfect aren’t you, Blue Belle?”
“You told me you didn’t love me . . . you were drinking and gambling and you shut down . . .”
“Because I was suffering,” he roars, spinning and slamming his fist into my lamp. It goes soaring across the room. “I was fucking dying inside.”
“And you wouldn’t talk to me!” I scream. “Jesus, Max, you wouldn’t tell me what was happening, you just kept on pushing me away.”
“And you were supposed to be my wife,” he says and his voice, his strong beautiful voice, cracks. “Through better and worse, right? I was dying inside, but you didn’t want to stay by my side. I knew what I did was wrong, but I wasn’t thinking straight. I was broken and didn’t even know who I was most days, but I thought . . .”
I start to cry and he watches the tears slide down my cheeks.
“I thought you’d fight with me, but you just gave up. You just left.”
“I found out I was pregnant.” I sob. “The night you told me you didn’t love me anymore, I found out, and I couldn’t take it. It wasn’t fair.”
Before he can answer, there’s a pounding on the door.
“Open up, Belle!”
Shit. It’s Tyke.
I reach down and grab my clothes, jerking them on. Max doesn’t move—he just stands there, jeans on but unbuttoned, staring at me. I walk to the door and swing it open to see Tyke and Pippa staring in.
“Everything okay in here?” Tyke asks.
“It’s f-f-f-fine,” I manage through my tears.
“No, it’s not. You two need to separate,” he orders.
Max grabs his shirt, muttering, “Fucking fine by me.”
He walks to the door and I call out his name, my voice so weak it’s barely a whisper. He looks back at me as he shoves past Tyke. “Did you ever think telling me about that baby might have been what saved me?”
My heart breaks open.
“No, you didn’t, because you had already given up on me.”
Then he leaves.
I fall to my knees and sob.
~*~*~*~
“H igher, Mommy!”
I push the swing higher, smiling as my daughter squeals happily.
I brought her out today to try and take my mind off the awful person I was last night. I’ve picked up my phone so many times, wanting to talk to Max, wanting to explain, but having no idea how. I hurt him; I’ve not seen him
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