Page 13 of Giving It to the Monster

Chapter Two

Natasha looked around the kitchen and quickly gathered ingredients to make an awesome stir fry. She loved cooking, and it had been something she enjoyed with Saint watching her. When she and Saint were younger, she’d found food brought him a great deal of comfort, and love. She’d done everything in her power to make Saint feel loved because he wasn’t getting it at home. His father had been useless and his mother not much better.

Neither of them had loved or cared about Saint. She doubted either of them had even cared about Elena. Their kids had become some kind of pawns in the games they were playing, and it pissed Natasha off to see it.

Taking out the celery, carrots, onions, and garlic, she started chopping them up so she could make her marinara sauce. She hated using one out of a jar, so she always made her own.

Pouring some oil in a large skillet, she started to cook the vegetables, seasoned them, and caught sight of her reflection in the mirror.

She looked like crap.

“Thanks, Simon, fucking asshole.”

Maybe she was to blame for Simon’s need to hurt her. She had married the bastard, and then she’d not given him all of herself, always holding back.

This is not your fault.

He’d wanted complete commitment, and submission. She hadn’t been able to give him either. Sex with him had been good, but again, her body had come to yearn for the touch of another, and no matter what she did, it wouldn’t allow her to forget Saint.

They had lost their virginities to each other at the young age of sixteen. It had been the best and worst moment of her life. Yes, they had both been underage, but at the time, she’d truly believed they were going to stay together forever. They’d been with each other since they were five years old. Why wouldn’t they last longer?

“What’s wrong?” Saint asked, making her jump.

“I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I know. You looked a little lost in your thoughts there.”

“Just remembering other times where I cooked for you. Staring at my face, and wondering what the hell I was doing.” She let out a breath. “I knew I shouldn’t be with him after the first hit. I made so many excuses.” Before she could even control it, tears started to fall from her eyes. Turning away, she covered her face.

“Shit, babe,” he said, coming up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, and instead of pushing him away, she leaned against him.

“I made excuses, Saint. I knew better.”

“Did you love him?” Saint asked.

Natasha stared straight ahead. The vision was blurry, and she felt sick to her stomach.

“Nat?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me the truth. Did you love him?”

“I can’t answer that.”

He turned her around so that she was staring up into his dark eyes. Why had she left him? Why had she turned her back on him?

“You married him.”

“I know.”

Saint cupped her cheek, and she leaned against him. “You didn’t love him.”

He didn’t make it sound like a question. She closed her eyes, basking in his touch. Simon, her husband, or at least her soon to be ex, hadn’t been right for her. They had been living together, and she truly believed it was possible to move on from Saint. But it didn’t matter what she did. She never forgot him, never stopped missing him.

“I shouldn’t have married him.”

“Why did you?” Saint asked.

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