but instead of pulling his chair closer to mine like normal, he stayed on the other side of the table from me. Something was off. A small flutter of nerves rippled down my spine. Did he regret last night? Was he trying to find a way to tell me?
“Are you okay?” I asked cautiously.
He smiled, but it was tight and didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes. I’m fine.”
I glanced around, feeling strange. Something was wrong. “Are we still going to the market?”
“If you have time.”
I frowned. “Time?”
“Do you have something you need to tell me, Julia?”
I shook my head. “No.”
He lifted one eyebrow in disbelief. “I used your laptop to look up the hours of the market.”
I was bewildered. “Okay, that’s fine.”
“You had a lot of windows open.”
I nodded. I’d been using my laptop all afternoon looking for a place to live. In my panic at his early arrival, I hadn’t shut anything down.
Oh.
Oh.
“And your phone has been beeping constantly. I plugged it in so your battery wouldn’t die, and the screen lit up. Your crabby landlady has been trying to get hold of you. She is as equally rude and insulting to you as she is to me, I see.”
I laid down my fork. He sounded so angry.
“I can explain.”
“A month? She is giving you a month to find a new place? In the middle of term?”
“A month less three days. She told me I hadn’t been around enough to tell me.” I indicated the laptop. “I was searching for places yesterday.”
“Do you have a lease?”
I shook my head. “It’s always been month-to-month. But I’ve been there for two years and never had any trouble, aside from how grumpy she was all the time. But suddenly—” I shrugged “—I’m a huge issue.”
“The places you’re looking at are unacceptable.”
“They’re what I can afford, Byron,” I explained quietly. “I don’t have any extra funds for anything more. It’s only until I can find more time to look for something better.”
“Why didn’t you come to me with this problem?” He narrowed his eyes. “Were you even going to tell me? Or did you not think I should be informed of this important detail?”
“Of course I was.” I gasped. “I didn’t want to spoil your birthday weekend! I was going to arrange to look at a few places next week. I got so caught up in trying to find something halfway decent, I lost track of time yesterday and then…destroyed dinner. I didn’t want the fact that I need a place to live to taint the rest of the weekend as well. I only wanted it to be about you. About us.”
He stared at me, the muscles in his jaw tight. He was really angry.
I threw my napkin down on the table and stood. “But apparently, I ruined the weekend anyway.”
I hurried from the kitchen, trying not to cry. All I’d wanted was to give Byron a nice weekend. And I had screwed up almost every part of it. I’d wrecked dinner, almost burned down his kitchen, and broken his favorite platter. Giving myself to him last night was now tarnished by the fact that he thought I was hiding something from him—as if I didn’t trust him enough. I shared my body with him, but not my problems. I should have known better—he was so protective of me; he would want to know and help me any way he could. I had planned on telling him when the weekend was over, but now it was too late.
I hesitated as I looked around his room, unsure what to do. It was his house. Should I leave? Give him some time, then go downstairs and apologize again? I picked up my travel bag from beside the dresser and sat down on the edge of the bed. I had no idea what to do. I didn’t even know what would happen when I showed back up at the rooming house. My lip began to tremble, and I bit down, trying to stop the tears, but they rolled down my cheeks, splashing onto my hand that gripped my little overnight bag.
“Stop, my love.” Byron appeared in front of me, gently pulling the handle from my fingers and tossing the bag to the side. He sat beside me on the bed, drawing me into his arms. “Hush. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I was just so angry.” He pulled back, brushing away my tears and dropping gentle kisses onto my damp skin. “But not at you,