“Who else, Scarlett? Tell me! Who else are you going to blame for his fucked-up behavior? You have something to say,lil’ girl—say it to him. Say it to the man who put it in your head that we’re all the same. You have trust issues with me? No. You have trust issues with him. Until you speak up, or deal with them, nothing will ever change.”
“Liar!” I screamed—knowing that word was a trigger for him. “I do trust you.”
He brought me forward and kissed me. This time I fought even harder, tears streaming down my face. I was going to be sick, thinking about him and other…
“Who’s the liar now, Scarlett?” he said, letting me go in a rush.
“Bastard!” I threw at him. I had never called him that before, out of respect for the situation with Luca. I regretted it immediately, but I was too caught up in my tantrum to backtrack.
He smiled, but it was far from jovial. “Touched a tender spot, ah?”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!” I snatched a figurine off the shelf, two pointe shoes, and flung it at his head. He dodged and it crashed against the wall, shattering to pieces. “Just because I don’t give all of my trust right away, or turn a blind eye when a man does wrong, doesnotmean I need help!”
He shrugged. “Have I ever betrayed you, Scarlett?”
“I trust you withmylife! What more do you want from me?”
“You can’t trust me with your life if you can’t trust me with your heart. We both know it means the same thing to us.”
“But Ido.” The last word came out angry, but no doubt laced with pleading—I hated how pathetic and weak it made me sound. “You have all of my love. Too much!”
He came closer and I held my hands up. “This has nothing to do with that!” I insisted.
“It has everything to do with that!”
“I—”
“Need some time. Yeah. I’ve heard it before. Why? Because you can’t keep from thinking about what I couldpotentiallydo.”
“You know what?” I said, turning back to the suitcase. “I’ve had enough of this conversation!”
“Yeah, well, me fucking too! Never would be too soon to discuss it again.”
“Fine!”
“Fine!” He threw out his hand hand.
He went to walk off but came back. “I’ll only say this once more. I’m not him. Not yesterday. Not today. Not tomorrow. If you’re in a position to judge, judge me by my own sins, not his.”
He shut the door to the bathroom with a soft click. A moment later the shower turned on, exploding in a blast of water.
I lifted a shirt, screamed into it, and then collapsed on the bed, right in the middle of the mess I had made, too tired to even deal with the next minute.
* * *
Falling asleep with an aching heart never bodes well for dreams. I had to force myself awake, to tear myself away from the nightmare, but once my eyes opened, I couldn’t remember what the dream had been about.
All in all—a blessing.
I reached out a hand for Brando, feeling his solid warmth next to me, an even bigger blessing.
“All right, Ballerina Girl?” he whispered.
He hadn’t been asleep. He hadn’t been doing much of that lately. Still brooding over whatever happened in that hospital room.
“Yes,” I croaked, and then cleared the sleep from my throat. “I’m all right.”
He sat up, and as my eyes adjusted, I realized that the doors leading to the veranda were open. A full moon so bright that it seemed as though someone had a light on outside shone silver on the porch, brightening the entire room. The color coated his smooth tan skin in a moody gray.
