Was he having a nervous breakdown?
Warily eyeing to door, her gaze jerked back to Trouble when he launched to his feet. She stiffened and stared at him as he began to pace, his fingers thrust through his hair, his face stormy, his body vibrating with tension.
She swallowed, suddenly fearful—notofhim butforhim. What the hell was happening here?
“Trouble?” she tried, but when he continued his agitated pacing, she tried again. “Erik?” she said softly, and immediately he halted mid-stride and whirled to face her. He dropped his arms and fisted his hands at his side.
His eyes stole her breath.
Dark. Green. As dark as an ancient forest night. As green as the Amazon just after a sky shattering storm. And pain. So…much…pain that it ripped a whimper right out of her throat.
“Erik?” she gasped.
He shook his head slowly, deliberately.
“What about Stanford—I know you got that scholarship to Stanford,” he barked, then raised his arms to thrust his fingers through his hair once more.
God, what the hell was he going on about? Obviously, this was bothering him.
“What about the scholarship to Stanford? I didn’t want to go—”
“Notwant to goto the better school with the better program? Why the hell not?” He was practically shouting, and Liz was getting pissed the fuck off.
“There was no way I was going to Stanford. They offered me a scholarship, yeah, but it was a partial scholarship, covering only the tuition. I would have had to cover my own books and materials, on top of living and food expenses. Have youseenhow much it costs tolivein Stanford, California? I’d have to sell my goddamn kidneysandmy lungs to afford rent, let alone food to eat. To go there, I’d have to work full time to pay for the basics, and to take a full load on top of that, on top ofcaring for a baby? Yeah, that would have been impossible. So, no, I didn’t go to Stanford, because it wasn’t fucking practical.” She narrowed her eyes at him, taking in the beaten dog look on his face. “Why? What’s the problem with me going to UNLV instead of Stanford? Why does that matter?”
He closed his eyes, dropped his arms once more, and heaved a slow, loud sigh.
When he opened his eyes again, it was like the storm had stopped, but it had left devastation in its wake.
“It matters because you were supposed to leave Las Vegas and go to Stanford…” he replied in a measured tone, his eyes begging her to connect the dots. In a blink, his eyes flashed from disbelief to agitation. He growled, then cursed. “You were supposed to go to Stanford, goddammit, that’s why I—”
He clamped his mouth shut before he finished, leaving what he didn’t say hanging there in the air. Like a chandelier made of shit and shame.
Liz sucked in a breath as memories began to shift, to reform, to become clearer. Suddenly, it all made sense, every heartbreaking, soul-crushing, life-altering detail of what happened in that fucking bar ten years ago.
Slithering, crawling, skittering—anger rose within her as everything took on a new light.
A new light she couldn’t quite grasp…until she did.
He’d cheated on her…to force her to leave.
And it had worked.
Her breaths coming in short, shallow pants, Liz shook her head, unable to gather the words through the searing ball of rage lodged in her throat.
He must’ve seen the hate scorching over her expression because he clenched his jaw and planted his hands on his hips, seeming to brace himself for what was coming.
“Now, Liz—”
She. Fucking. Snapped. Grabbing the thing nearest to her, she threw the pink water pitcher at his head.
“Shit!” he cried, unfortunately ducking before he could get doused with the water.
“You motherfucking piece of shit!” she screamed, then grabbed the box of tissues off the table and threw that, too. Why wasn’t there anything heavier within her goddamn reach? “You hated me that much that you stuck your dick in Bitch Bonnie, knowing I’d show up and catch you? You fucked her knowing I would hear you two in there, and knowing that I’d run, knowing that I’d be so fucking gutted by what you did that I’d never question why!”
Seething, she tried to sit up, to get to the edge of the bed so she could jump off the bed, and tear off his motherfucking face.
Trouble cursed and reached out a hand to stop her. She jerked back, making her ribs scream in pain.