Page 73 of Love Him Like Water

But there was something different in his tone as he said it.

Like he was pissed at me.

“Yeah, I’m fucking talking to you,” Elian said, gaze lifting, shooting fucking daggers at me.

“The fuck got into you?”

“What is everyone doing here?” he asked.

I glanced around, confused. “Hanging out.”

“I texted you earlier,” he said.

Yeah.

He had.

About coming home earlier.

Which, in fact, I did.

“I’m aware. And here I am.”

“And you invited the whole family.”

“Elian, the fuck, man? You got a problem, say it.”

“Yeah, I got a problem,” he said, suddenly yanking the garbage can out of the sliding track, and dropping it down at my feet.

“What’s that?” I asked, looking down at what looked like an entire garbage bag full of food.

“The dinner your wife made for you,” he snapped.

“What?” I asked, glancing back down at the food. Pasta, sauce, cheese, salad ingredients. “She cooked for me?” I asked, a strange, tugging sort of sensation in my chest at the idea.

“Yeah. And you couldn’t even fucking come home and eat it with her? The fuck is the matter with you?” he snarled, surprising me with his candor.

Clearly, the guy had bonded with my wife.

And he was furious at what he saw as my mistreatment of her.

“You take that girl, rip her away from everything and everyone she knows, lock her up in this apartment alone all day and most of the night. And you can’t even be here the one time she asks anything of you.”

That was… fair.

I couldn’t even fault him for what he said.

Lore asked me for absolutely nothing.

And I… gave her almost nothing too.

I think, in my mind, I figured she had it pretty good. A big apartment all to herself. No husband breathing down her neck, questioning what she was doing all the time. As much money as she wanted. Toe-curling orgasms.

But what if that wasn’t enough?

What if she wanted more?

And I was too fucking distracted to notice?

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