Page 31 of Rush of Jealousy

“It’s complicated.”

“Not to me it isn’t.”

“Well, you don’t know everything.”

“Enlighten me.”

I turn back to my side window and watch as the trees and houses blur by. I have so much I want to tell him but can’t. I cannot have him sabotage my efforts for my last chance to let the past four years have some sort of worth.

At least I have a chance. Sometimes life doesn’t give you a dress rehearsal. Sometimes there are no do-overs. If I have any hope of achieving the goals I made for myself, then I cannot let the fear of failing keep me from taking the risk. I have not gotten this far to back down now. It’s like I am on the cusp of figuring it all out, and if I can report on it first, then I will lock in my future.

“Just trust me,” I say softly.

“Trust you?” He looks over at me as if I just said the most asinine thing. “Trustyou?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Trust you how?”

“Trust that I can stand on my own. That I am strong enough to make my own decisions.”

“If something…” His words trail off, as he takes a deep breath. “If something happens to you, I will never forgive myself.”

“Forgive yourself for what, Graham?”

“For not putting a stop to you joining my agency in the first place. For allowing you to gallivant around town putting your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

I shake my head at his words. “Allowing me? I am not a toddler!”

“But most importantly, for not forcing you to accept that you are mine and to know without an ounce of doubt that I protect and cherish what is mine. When you finally come to realize that truth, you will let me do things my way.”

I look over at his stern face. Is he for real? What decade is he living in that he thinks he can do this caveman talk and women actually obey? “Graham, I’m not some shiny object. You cannot put me on a shelf and take me down when it suits you. You cannot use the situation with Penny to draw a correlation to what could happen to me. We may be similar, but I am my own person. I make my own decisions. You are not responsible for my safety.”

“You are everything to me, Angie. Everything. It took losing you to really understand how much my life needed you in it.”

“Graham…”

“I’m tired of this dance we keep doing back and forth. It is fucking with my mind.”

“Where are we going?” I ask, changing the subject back to something else that will most likely cause a conflict. Seems to be the common theme these days.

“My place.”

I know not to argue. There’s really no point to it. I am just glad to get away from the party. There are so many thoughts running through my head, and I lack the energy to fight about anything more.

“For the entire night?”

“Yes, Angela. Any other questions you need to get out of the way?”

I swallow hard. I rest my hands in my lap and fiddle with the curling end of my bandage. The wound site hurts a bit more tonight from all of the games I played. I hope I didn’t pop a stitch.

“Are you in a lot of pain?” His rough voice cuts through the silence.

I give him a shrug and respond, “I think playing three rounds of pool wasn’t the best decision.”

He opens his mouth to talk but then closes it. I can tell he is mulling a response around in his head but resists saying anything out loud. Instead he just nods and pulls into the parking garage at his building.

Graham parks, gets out, and opens my door. Once my belt is undone, I am pulled from my seat and tucked close to his side.

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