“I’m leery. Jess, I’m not sure if I want to return with him.” In some dark moments, I didn’t know if I could—not without sacrificing some part of myself. “How can the sex be so good when other parts of our lives are so lacking? I know without a doubt that no other guy will fit me so well in bed. I found him on my first foray.”
“You sound like you’re in love with him, Nat.”
“I am,” I admitted. “But it’s complicated. This love might have a razor’s edge to it. And it’s exhausting. I don’t remember the last time I was so tired.”
Perhaps I needed to get out from under his influence and process everything that had happened. His personality was larger than life, the things he’d shown me as well; it could be that I’d overloaded.
Sometimes I thought a break from his intensity might be welcome. Other times I shrank to think of parting from him.
“You’ve got to bring this to a head,” Jess said. “If you want answers out of him, then demand them. Speak to him in the language he understands: Unicorn. Or Glock, or whatever. Dig until you get the splinter out of the lion’s paw.”
“And if I can’t dig it out?”
“Then let him get f**king gangrene—alone. Put a cap on this, girl. Give it one more shot, but then you’re done.”
Maybe she was right. He expected me to do all the adjusting—while he stubbornly remained the same. Maybe I should stop compromising and making excuses for him.
“You know you’re probably going to have to cut this one loose, Nat. I think you’re hoping that I’ll tell you to stick it out through thick and thin, through all his wank moppet damage. Wrong. Sometimes self-preservation means preservation of self.”
“That’s deep, Jess.” And it was exactly where I was failing: keeping the Natalie in Natalie. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Read it in a twatting romance novel.”
I gasped. “You can read ?”
“There’s my Nat! I missed you. Lose the downer unicorn and come home.”
I recalled his reaction the last time I’d suggested a break; he’d trashed the dresser. “Taking time off will be difficult with a guy like him.”
“Then remember my advice. ABC, baby.” Always be crazier.
After we hung up, I dressed, readying for battle. What I wouldn’t give for a pair of jeans and clodhopper boots—or any garment at all from the bottom of my Nebraskan laundry basket.
I settled on a satin-weave blouse in cobalt blue and a black pencil skirt. I knotted my hair atop my head as I slipped into a pair of pointy-toe heels.
It wasn’t until later that afternoon that he returned, making his way up to our room. Weariness emanated from him.
Not just weariness—distance. It was worse than it’d ever been. And I could swear I even saw resentment in his expression.
Resentment toward . . . me? What the hell did I do? “We need to talk.”
He shucked off his gun holster, rolling his head on his shoulders. “I don’t want to do this right now.”
“You’re not going to put me off any longer. I’m done whiling away here when you go out for your mysterious meetings—that you keep secret from me. I’m done being shut out of your life.”
His eyes were full of warning. “You need to learn patience.”
Patience? He was putting this back on me again? “When do you intend to let me in? When do I rate high enough to get to know your business? To actually discuss things with you? After we sleep together? Already did that! Once we’re living together? We are.” I tapped my chin. “Hmm? Maybe after you whip and screw me in front of an audience? How much more personal can things be than that? Yet you won’t share what’s going on in your life? In your thoughts?”
“Maybe it will never happen,” he said, filling me with alarm. “Did you ever think about that, Natalie? How about never?”
“If I’m not your partner in this, then I’m no better than a doll, a toy you bring out and store away whenever it suits you.” Like I’d done with my arsenal. “How do you think that makes me feel?” To him, I was merely a belonging—which he’d told me.
Should’ve listened to him, honey.
He scrubbed his palm over his mouth. “Maybe you expect things from me that I do not know how to give.”
“You know how. You just refuse!”