If I could spew fire from the depths of my throat, I would.
“That bullshit happened before the miscarriages, and after…she still stuck by his side.” She pins me with a cruel glare. “Do you know what happened then?”
I shake my head.
“He dumped her for someone else. Younger. The new girlfriend was pregnant within three months.” Lindsay gets to her feet and comes around the kitchen island to stand in front of me. “So forgive me if I’m a protective of her. She’s been through too much shit to settle again. Natalie puts everyone’s needs before her own. It’s part of who she is, but she deserves tobe taken care of for once. Treated like a damn queen.” She jerks back to look at me. “And you, no offense, seem like another black hole looking to suck her in.”
“How?” I ask, disgusted by the comparison. “I’ve treated her with nothing but care and respect. She means the world to me. I’m not Kyle.” Anger escalating, my voice raises. I know I should calm myself, but I can’t keep it in. My jaw tense, I spit, “You know nothing about me.”
This is a waste of time. I couldn’t give less of a fuck what Lindsay thinks of me. She hasn’t been here. She hasn’t seen Natalie and I together. We’resupposedto be together. I don’t care how trite the thought feels once it settles in my mind. It’s the truth. There’s no one I have ever, or will ever, love more than Natalie. I may not deserve her, but I have every intention of making her feel loved and supported and cherished every fucking moment she continues to exist.
I spin on my heel, ready to storm into the shower and wrap Natalie in the safety of my arms when Lindsay says, “You might think you’re different, but you’re not. Can you support her financially?”
Financially.
Well, I don’t technically have an income, but there are other things I provide for her. “I cook her meals,” I tell Lindsay.
“Who pays for the groceries?”
I open my mouth, but Lindsay interrupts before I can speak.
“Let’s say she rents the house from me, or, fuck, let’s say I just give her the house for free. Do you think she can afford the repairs, utility bills, and property taxes of this place on her own? On what? The tips she makes from the bar?”
The blood in my veins feels ice-cold.
“Can you give her a child? She may not have been ready to be a mom when she was with Kyle, but it’s been a dream of hers as long as I’ve known her.”
No. I can’t give her that. I didn’t even realize she wanted a child. Wouldn’t she have told me?
“What happens if Natalie is seriously injured or is diagnosed with a terminal illness? She told me you can’t even leave the fucking property.”
“That…is true,” I admit sheepishly. My throat is so dry I can barely speak. “I can’t leave.” I feel like such a fool. Why hadn’t I considered any of this before now? Were we truly so wrapped up in the lust we feel for each other that none of this crossed our minds?
“If you can’t leave, how do you expect to visit her in the hospital––god forbid she ever ends up there? Or take her to doctor’s appointments if she can’t drive herself?”
The tinny sound of Susanna’s voice plays in my head.
How do you expect to carry yourself like a member of high society when you can’t even hold a fork properly?
Why are you such a constant disappointment? It’s embarrassing. I don’t even like being seen with you in public.
Do you really think I pursued you because I loved you?
How could you delude yourself into thinking someone likemecould love someone likeyou?
“I can’t,” I mutter quietly. To myself, to Susanna, and to Lindsay. “I don’t know.” The room is starting to feel small, and my breaths are coming out in short, uneven puffs. “I need to repair the fence. Tell Natalie I went to repair the fence.” I drop my phone on the counter in the kitchen, then storm outside without looking back.
Chapter 22
Natalie
The vibe is off when I get out of the shower. Lindsay seems tense, but also smug, and Winston is nowhere to be found. Lindsay tells me he went outside to repair a fence, but I’m guessing it was an excuse to get away from her. She can be direct and come off as rude. If anyone can handle rude directness, however, it’s Winston.
I don’t take it personally when he stays away until nightfall. In fact, it’s really sweet that he’s giving me and Lindsay space to hang out. He knows she’s hurting, and she wanted a girls-only sleepover, and he’s giving us that.
Whenever I mention Winston, whether it’s talking about the house, or me gushing over how amazing he is, her mouth forms a straight line, but that’s okay. I’ll melt the ice between them soon enough.
I find him in the kitchen as Lindsay is getting ready for bed, and sneak a few long, passionate kisses before I head back upstairs to go to sleep.
