Page 36 of When I Found You

Heat rises in my cheeks. “A week ago.”

“Hah! Chemistry.” She punches the air with her bangled fist. “Told you.”

“It only made things worse.” I hang my head. “The only time he’s ever around me is when I’m talking with someone else.”

“Is this with anyone else or only other men?”

“Anyone, really.” I think about the past week. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think he’s possessive, but honestly, he probably doesn’t trust me.”

“He doesn’t trust anyone.” Marcy taps her manicured fingernails against her lips. “But this is more than that for sure.”

Before I can even ponder her words, Rob and Arthur appear in the doorway. Rob hangs back, his gaze appraising as it skims over me and lingers on Marcy.

“Sorry to interrupt the party, ladies.” Rob and Arthur share a look.

Arthur’s stiff posture and the gentle clench and release of his fists by his side betray the tension radiating from him. He seems uncomfortable, and that’s putting it mildly.

“No problem.” Marcy jumps to her feet. “Want something to drink, Rob? Come to the kitchen.”

I know what she’s doing and she’s not even trying to hide it. Rob joins her in the kitchen. Even though it’s open to the rest of the apartment, there’s a shift in energy with Arthur and I remaining in the living room.

“You should find your own place.” Arthur’s statement cuts straight through the tension stealing all the warmth from the room.

What little confidence I gained from my conversation with Marcy pops like a bubble. My chest constricts under the intensity of his gaze. He remains firm.

A scuffle of commotion in the kitchen behind me brings me to my senses. “Yeah, you’re right.”

When I stand up, I grip the sofa to keep from falling. Three bottles of wine hit me at once.

In a flash, Arthur’s across the room and catches my elbow. I jerk out of his grasp. “No. You don’t get to play hero, Arthur. You want me to leave. I’ll go.”

“I didn’t mean right this second.” His voice grates against my mind creating friction and heat. “You’re drunk. I’ll help you find a place tomorrow.”

“No.” I stumble back out of his reach. The tenuous connection we have pulls tight, a fraying thread barely holding. “You’ve done enough.”

Arthur roughly runs his hand over his face and through his hair. “Damn it, Kate.”

The biting edge of his words cuts the final tether. An alcohol induced haze filters through my reason. My heart plunges to the pit of my stomach and bile burns the back of my throat.

I race past him stumbling around the furniture. He reaches out and grabs my wrist.

“Kate. I want you to be honest with me.”

My stomach churns and I shake my head. “No. You don’t.”

I wrench myself out of his grip and dart into the bedroom. By the time I reach the bathroom, it’s too late. I double over the toilet heaving as my body purges the copious amounts of wine I drank.

Tears sting my eyes as my stomach heaves. My body shakes. Stupid. So stupid. My hand grips the toilet.

“Easy now,” a man’s gentle voice echoes behind me. It’s not Arthur, it’s Rob. He gathers my hair in his hand and rubs a cool cloth against the back of my neck. “Better get it all out.”

Mortified, I pinch my eyes closed wishing I were still in my present. No matter what the decade, I am still a hopeless disaster.

“Leave.” I try to shoo him away.

“Nice try, Kate.” Rob’s soft chuckle echoes off the tile. “I’m a doctor. A little vomit doesn’t scare me.”

My stomach heaves again. I want the ground to open up and swallow me, put me out of my misery.

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