Page 88 of A Little More Forgiveness

He shrugged like them not getting pregnant meant nothing when it must have meant everything to them both.

“Katie wanted to try again, but we didn’t have the money. I’d already taken out two bank loans, and they wouldn’t give us any additional funds. We argued and she…she…” He walked away from me to the sink and stared out of the window into the early dawn light, his knuckles white where he gripped the ceramic basin.

I went over to him and stood in close, without crowding him, understanding he’d refuse anything else from me. I didn’t touch him but hoped the heat from my body offered him some degree of comfort.

“She said I was to blame,” he choked. “That I wasn’t man enough to give her what she needed. She’d have to go look elsewhere as there’d be plenty of men more than willing to…” His voice trailed off, the memory too upsetting to continue. I let him catch his breath and pull himself together. “I was angry and ashamed so told her if that’s how she felt, she should leave. Go find the man who’d give her what she wanted. I told her to get out. Screamed at her to go.” A sob left his throat, the sound heartbreaking. “So, she did. I pushed her away, made her go, and…and…”

This time I did touch him, leaning my body in and nestling against him, my arms going around his thick waist and holding on.

“There’s no way you could have foreseen what would happen, Mitch.”

His hard shove took me completely by surprise, and I staggered back a few steps, shocked by his action as he spun around to face me.

“You’ve no fucking clue.”

“I—”

“If we hadn’t argued, if I hadn’t forced her away, she wouldn’t have driven off, wouldn’t have been angry and upset, wouldn’t have forgotten to buckle up. She’d have been concentrating on the road, been able to control the car. It’s my fault. I killed her. Me!”

Mitch kept repeating the same words over and over as he paced the room, and for once, I was at a total loss as to what to do. I sorely wanted to comfort him, to take away all his misery, but didn’t have the first clue where to start.

He turned on his heel at the end of the kitchen and stalked over to me, stopping abruptly a few feet away, his expression no longer tormented, instead, a mask of hostile rage, his narrowed gaze fixed squarely on mine. An iciness swept over me at the coldness in his eyes and the crackling tension emanating from him.

Suddenly, he lunged at me, roughly grabbing the front of my sweater in his fist. “You,” he growled, his breathing ragged. “This is all your fault. If you’d just listened when I told you no, I’d have been left to finish what I started in peace, alone.” His grip tightened on my sweater, sending my pulse into overdrive at the possibility he was readying to punch me in the mouth. “When the road opens, I want you out. Both of you.” His face contorted in pain, disgust, and self-loathing. “This is our place—mine and Katie’s—and is all I need. All I’ve ever needed.” He yanked me forward until my face was inches from his own. “And. It’s. Not. For. Sale.”

Shoving me away, I almost lost my balance again as he pushed past me and charged out of the room, nearly knocking Leo off his feet as he entered the kitchen.

“Mitch?” he queried, but Mitch ignored him as he headed for the front door, the dogs quick to follow their owner, the wood slamming loudly shut behind them. Leo rounded on me, his face hardening. “What’s going on? What the hell have you done now?”

Anger spiked, hot and heavy, in my veins. “Me?” I snapped. “Why am I always in the wrong, huh?” I shook my head. “You’re so fucking quick to jump in and defend Mitch and take his side.”

Leo’s eyes widened, and he sputtered his answer. “That—that’s not true.”

I stalked over to him. “Yes, it is true,” I ground out. “And I’m sick of it. Sick to my fucking teeth of being the one in the wrong all the time. The one being made to apologize for airing my own fucking opinion and having to continually battle both of you when I don’t agree with your side of the story, no matter if I’m right.” I glared at Leo, realizing I didn’t know him at all. “Two against one,” I sneered.

God, I’d had more than enough of this shit for one day and refused to take one second more. I pushed past Leo and stalked down the hallway into the bedroom. Copying Mitch, I slammed the door behind me, the sound echoing off the walls, unsatisfying to say the least.

I threw myself onto the bed, grabbed one of the pillows and hurled it across the room, before grabbing the other and doing the same. Me against them. Always me against them. Always outside. Always on the fucking outside.

Love, my ass. Stuck here together I’d mistaken my feelings of lust and the forced proximity between us for something deeper. How fucking dense was I?

The damned road couldn’t open anywhere quick enough for my liking. It was high time to get off this hellhole of a property and return to Manhattan where I belonged.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Leo

After all the shouting moments ago, the room now felt deathly quiet.

I’d woken up to an empty bed again, which was bad enough, but then I heard their voices, quiet at first, the way people tended to speak early in the morning. However, their voices swiftly grew louder as their conversation had gotten heated, and when the argument had begun, I sprang out of bed to find out what on earth was going on.

I hadn’t expected such a heavy atmosphere emanating from the kitchen nor to encounter a very pissed off Mitch nearly knocking me on my butt in his haste to get out of the house. When I’d rounded on Gabe, annoyed he’d aggravated Mitch when the three of us had finally gotten to a good place, he’d handed my ass back to me on a silver platter with a huge side order of humble pie.

I kept running over the argument we’d subsequently had, his words cutting deep. Did I continually take Mitch’s side over his? I didn’t think I had, but from Gabe’s furious reaction, he certainly seemed to think so.

I analyzed his accusation further, going over what I recalled regarding any disagreements between them to see if he’d been right. Okay, there may have been instances in the beginning where I might have possibly taken Mitch’s side more by default. After spending some time with him when I first arrived, I figured underneath his prickly and serious exterior he was lost and wounded and had needed someone to confide in.

But I hadn’t thought a pattern had formed because of it. Gabe came across so self-assured and comfortable in his own skin I just assumed he didn’t require any help standing up for himself. If he wanted to say something, he just went for it. Perhaps that was part of the reason I’d been so quick to come to Mitch’s defense. Mitch was vulnerable and needed me, whereas I didn’t think Gabe did, nowhere near as much, anyway.

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