Page 61 of Vicious Arrangement
Shit. Am I ignoring her because she’s an unexpected catch, that the chemistry is more than flash in the pan but something that keeps increasing? Because it does. And the more time I spend with her the more I like her and maybe I’ll fall hard?
“Is there something wrong with falling in love?” I mutter under my breath, walking again. I know I want my friend to find happiness and I thought maybe, one day in a future that was so far ahead it wasn’t mine I’d fall. But now?
Why not now?
Something cold slithers in my blood. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. The sex is amazing, she’s funny, smart, caring and doesn’t take bullshit. We’re fucking married. Why can’t I just let her in.
We’re married.
It’s not going to change.
It’d be nothing to just take a chance and see where it goes…
The coldness coils around my heart and guts.
I know why. Deep down, rejection waits. It wants to strike like I deserve it.
Asher hasn’t left, but he’s my best friend. We’ve known each other forever. And Joshy is four.
Others left. And the most important person did, too. My mom. She loved me. And left. Not on her own, I know that, but… shit, my own father, a brute who abused her and beat me, put fear into us and I couldn’t protect her, I couldn’t stop her crying. Shit. I couldn’t even save her. I caused it, I think. She was so scaredbecause of me. I made her more scared. And she kept putting off leaving to get it right. I have bursts of memories of that.
And he killed her.
Years of domestic abuse, and he killed her because she… she hid me. Then he couldn’t find me and killed himself, and my grandfather…
He looked at me like it was my own fault.
Like I killed her.
Like I was my father.
And maybe I am. Maybe I’m just like him.
Who would want the son of an abuser, of a murderer, a guy who couldn’t protect his mom? Worse.
What if I am like him?
No, it’s better this way. Me, keeping Aria at a distance.
When I get in, Aria’s on the terrace with her beast dog off the grand room, and I storm out to her, the warm lights on the terrace giving the evening a nice glow.
Her horse growls. I ignore him.
I point at her. “Why the fuck are you making plans behind my back?”
She closes her iPad, gets up from her seat, and starts inside, and I take her arm, the electricity zapping through me. “What are you on about?”
“Inviting people here? My best friend. Without fucking consulting me.”
She tugs at her arm and I reluctantly let her go, but she stands her ground, Angus growling a little louder. “Angus, no.” Then she looks at me. And I can’t read her expression. It’s calm but I think I can see a little anger, too. Good. “I wasn’t aware I needed your permission to do anything.”
“This is my apartment.”
She nods. Yeah, definitely anger. “Your apartment?”
“Yes.”
“So it’s that kind of marriage, is it, where I’m essentially your chattel?”
