Page 57 of Indulgence
I cleared my throat. “I can hear you. Natalie, open this damn door.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Natalie
My heart sank as Matteocalled out on the other side of the door. It was eight in the morning, and this early of a visit was the last thing I expected.
“What is wrong with you?” Pen chided as she looked from the door to me with disappointment painted across her face. “I’m not lying for you. Stop hiding here and fix your marriage. I would have killed to have Kevin care about fixing our relationship the way Matteo wants to work through your problems.”
She opened the door and revealed an agitated Matteo. “Come in.”
Her eyes bounced between us. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” She gave me a pointed look before leaving me standing in front of my irate husband.
Why did seeing him angry make me defensive?
My guard shot up, and I hated it. Matteo had always been my safe place, not somewhere full of unease and shame.
He cleared his throat. “I spoke to Brooke last night.”
Her name sent my stomach to the floor next to my feet.
“She started her period. We have no pregnancy to be concerned about.”
The anger in his voice was a contrast to the flood of emotions soaring through me. Relief. Exhaustion. Maybe a bit of anger, and something else I couldn’t quite identify. Incredulousness, perhaps.
“Why do you sound so angry about that?”
His fists clenched at his sides and his nostrils flared. “I’m pissed because when I could finally breathe again, when I could feel my shoulders relaxing, when I finally felt a fraction of anything positive in a week, the only person who matters wasn’t there with me. I sat there alone, again. When I really needed you.”
It didn’t matter whether or not he was right, my sensible side had taken leave and my mouth just started running. “And I’m still trying to figure out how the hell our perfect marriage got here—with my husband being relieved he didn’t get another woman pregnant.”
He grunted and stepped forward, forcing me toward the living room. “Jesus Christ, Natalie. How we got here doesn’t matter! You’re hurt. You’re upset. You’re angry. I get it. But there are two of us in this situation, in case you’ve forgotten. How I feel matters, too, damn it. Stop only thinking about yourself here and letting your feelings cloud your judgment. You’re starting to really piss me off.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but it was too late. Matteo stopped me. “You had your chance to talk. I’ve been begging you to speak to me for eight fucking days. I’ve always bent over backward to make you happy because I love you. I’ve listened to you say that you can’t. You can’t talk. You can’t be around me. Can’t look at me. All while you ignore the fact that, each time you say it, it cuts me open and I’m bleeding out over here. I’m barely holding it together, so now you are going to listen to me.”
His words were laced with pain and the guilt flickered in my heart a bit. “I need you to stop playing the victim and be my wife. Be my best friend. Be my support. From the moment you reminded me that we were careless, and a child was a possibility, you’ve placed all the blame on me. I was the one held responsible. I had to discuss birth control and STIs with a woman who I’d met when I was drunk the night before. You stuck your head in the sand and left me hanging out to dry.”
“I’ve been alone in this too.”
He took another step closer. His stubble had grown out, giving him a very rugged look even in his slacks and collared shirt. “That’s been your choice. Because you don’t want to admit your mistakes and accept the accountability. I’ve owned mine. You haven’t. You’re upset and mad about mixing our worlds, but you’re the one who did the mixing. I didn’t invite that woman home with us. I followed all of your cues, let things play out how you wanted them to. I didn’t hear any objections from you at any point. Yes, I forgot the condom, but so did you. There were three adults in that room, and no one thought about protection.”
I knew that. I’d run this through my head so many times. If I did this, that that wouldn’t have happened. If I’d made better choices. If I’d acted like a regular wife and mother, this wouldn’t have happened and my marriage wouldn’t be on the line with a love child potentially waiting in the wings.
Matt was right, but that didn’t mean I was wrong. I had the right to be hurt and sad. But there was no longer a chance of my nightmare coming true, so what happened next? “I don’t know where to go from here.”
“Where exactly is here, Natalie?”
The huff drew from my lungs involuntarily. “Here is feeling so far from my husband we might as well be on different continents instead of standing next to each other. Here is seeing images of my husband having sex with another woman whenever I close my eyes. Here is me staying with my friend because I don’t know if I can step foot in my bedroom without seeing it all again.”
There was a lot in that statement. Before I could even try to unpack it all, it was spilling from my lips. Matteo wasn’t going to let any of that go.
His arms stretched over his chest as he crossed them. “What if something like this had happened with Adam? How would you feel if the situation were reversed, and I left you to deal with that all on your own?”
I shook my head, trying to ignore that Pen, who was no doubt listening from the kitchen, had just been inadvertently told that I’d slept with Adam. “I don’t know.” I shrugged, not wanting to admit I wouldn’t like it. “But we didn’t have to worry about this with Adam.”
“And you’ll never have to think about it because I took care of it ahead of time,” he reminded me. “Adam and I discussed how the night would go. That night with Brooke wasn’t planned.”
Heat rose up my neck. My face felt flushed. “So, what you’re saying is that it’s all my fault because I was the one who said we didn’t have to plan everything out and we could go with the flow? Is that what you’re saying?”
