Page 45 of Chosen Road

I turned away and scrubbed my hand over my jaw before turning back to her. “Are you telling me you thought I was working with her all this time?” I growled.

“Working with her, maybe even with her at the beginning,” she admitted, her eyes big as they scanned my furious face.

“Fucking… honest to fuck… are you fucking kidding me?”

She took a step back and I slid her a warning glance. “Don’t you dare back away from me like you’re scared. I’d cut off my own arm before I ever hurt you.”

She leaned in and hissed angrily, “Maybe you should have cut off your dick.”

“Why would I do that when you’d already castrated me?” I retorted.

Shots fired. Maybe it was being in this fucking house that did it to us. More likely it was the fact that we’d never talked things out.

Not once.

If we’d gone to therapy, this would have all been out in the open. My frustration mounted, until I took in the hurt on her face and took a step back.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. That escalated quickly.” I faced her, my temper in check, hoping hers was as well. “I don’t remember what happened. I can only tell you, with God as my witness, I never wanted her. I don’t understand what the fuck happened that day.”

The kettle boiled, billowing steam into the air.

I waved her back towards the chair.

“Please, sit. Have a hot chocolate with me. Alex said you wanted to talk to me.”

She nodded and slumped down into her chair. I made the hot chocolate and sat down on her left.

“You want whip cream?” I teased gently, hoping to elicit a smile. There was a time that was code for something else. I hoped the memory of the mess we made was a good one.

She smiled. “We made a mess.”

“We did.” I murmured, my voice going deeper as I smiled back.

She drummed her fingers on the table and frowned. Back to business.

“Alex needs to see more solidarity between us.”

“Okay,” I readily agreed.

“It doesn’t change anything,” she warned. “The rules of separation are the same. You can see people if you want to.” She looked sick.

My eyes bugged out of my head for the third or fourth time. If I’d known her visit would be like this I might not have wished for it so fucking hard. “Like, dating?” A fury like none I’d ever known took over. “Are you dating?”

“Me?” She looked astounded. “Of course not! I couldn’t even hang onto the man I had, why would I go looking for another one?”

I winced. “Why would you think I’d be dating?”

“Your needs weren’t being met,” she whispered.

This was more talking than she’d ever done about her fears and worries. It was no wonder she could only manage a whisper.

“Were yours?” I asked bluntly.

“I didn’t feel any need,” she admitted, her face flaming.

“Not sexually, Amber. Were your needs being met?” I asked again.

“No,” she replied. “No, they were not.”

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