Page 90 of The Man I Love

“Sniffing around?” She was horrified by the analogy. “Besides,” she placed the bag on the couch, “it’s none of your business who comes over here.”

“Like hell it’s not!” He scoffed.

Her blood was boiling. “You should go.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Sam…” His anger deflated, and he came to put his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s talk about this.”

“I’m tired, Tristan,” she whispered. “So tired.”

“Of what?”

“Of fighting!” she yelled. “Of constantly ending up here, where you don’t trust me.”

He stepped backward and leaned against the wall.

“When you touch me, I forget about everything––and then...”

“Fuck!” he yelled, not letting her finish. “I love you! Can’t you see that? My anger has nothing to do with not trusting you.” He pulled in a deep breath and pointed at the nursery. “Ishould have been the one to put that crib together.” He held out his hands in front of her. “With these hands. Not his.” His guttural tone almost killed her.

Hot tears sprung into her eyes, and she stepped forward, but he turned away from her. She hadn’t even thought of him at that moment. When Steven put the crib together, she’d only been focused on getting things checked off her list. She hadn’t even questioned that Tristan may be the one who wanted to build the crib for his child.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t even think.”

“It’s fine,” he said, but his phone buzzed in his pocket at that exact moment.

He paused for a second, then took his phone from his pocket to read the message. “Shit!” His eyes closed.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“It’s Penny.” He shook his head. “A client’s new system is malfunctioning, and I have to go fix it.”

“Right now?”

“Yes.” He looked conflicted. Broken.

She knew it wasn’t an excuse. He had to work. He was the only one who could do the job. “You should go.” She nodded, forcing a subdued expression onto her face. “I have a million things to do, anyway. Renee and Phin will be here tomorrow afternoon, and I need to get things ready for them.”

He looked at her for a long time, then slowly walked closer, laying his hands along her neck. “I’ll come back tomorrow,” he promised. “We’ll get everything ready.”

She wanted to cry, but instead she nodded and forced a smile. “Okay,” she whispered.

“Goodnight, Samantha.” He kissed her forehead, then picked up his first-aid kit as he exited the apartment.

33

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

September

Present Day

Sam thoughtabout nothing but their argument all evening, and by the time the doorbell rang the next day, she was a bundle of nerves and anticipation.

But it wasn’t Tristan waiting on the other side of the door like she’d expected. It was Steven, standing in the stairwell in his three-piece suit, holding a basket of fruit.

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