Page 75 of Love Him Like Water

The one who forced her into this situation.

Hell, I wasn’t even around often enough for her to do so if she found the courage.

“The fuck?” I said, pushing open the bedroom door, finding the bed empty. “Lore?” I called, stepping into the bathroom, but finding that empty as well.

By the time I walked back out of the room, the apartment was abandoned below, drinks and food still scattered all around from Dav rushing everyone out of the door.

Sucking in a deep breath, I moved across the catwalk to the other balcony, pausing at the closed door I was met with.

Reaching for the knob, I pushed it open.

And there she was.

Curled up on the bed.

In a little black dress.

She’d even dressed up for me too.

‘Cause I needed something else to feel like shit about.

I moved inward, sitting down at her feet.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” she said, face buried in the pillow like she was talking to it, not to me, but I had to admire her for finding her balls enough to tell me off.

“Tough shit,” I said, then winced.

That was what I’d say to one of my capos.

Not how I was supposed to speak to my wife.

“Go away, Renzo,” she said, voice sounding small and raw.

“Can’t do that.”

But I also had no fucking idea how to make this right either.

She mumbled something then to herself. I wasn’t meant to make it out, but I could have sworn she said something about how I was good at going away.

“You cooked for me,” I said, seeing her stiffen at that. “I didn’t know, mouse,” I said. “Not until Elian just chewed my ass out about it.” She said nothing to that, just curled tighter into her ball, as though if she tried hard enough, she could fold into herself and disappear. “No one’s ever cooked for me before,” I said. “Looked good.”

I was getting nowhere.

And I was no good at this shit.

Sighing, I moved to stand, going toward the side of her body, then reaching out, sliding my hands under her, then starting to lift her.

“No,” she objected, jerking hard.

“Shh,” I murmured, pulling her tighter, knowing she liked being held, that it was the only tool I had in my arsenal here. That she liked being touched by me. Enough that, even though she was pissed and hurt, as soon as she was against my chest, she stopped struggling, and settled against me.

I kept her close as I moved down the catwalk, then the stairs, and across the apartment to place her down at her chair at the set table.

The second I released her and turned to go toward the island to get some food, though, I saw her stiffly stand.

“Lore,” I called, watching her stiffen at her name. “Work with me here,” I said. “I’m trying,” I added, watching as she turned to study my face for a second before sliding back onto the chair.

I moved around the kitchen, transferring some chicken piccata over noodles onto a plate, and reheating it in the microwave as I went to get us each a drink, having to look up the ingredients to that fruity drink Dav made Lore to make her one and bring it back.

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