I grab her body wash and lather it into my hands before gently working it over her shoulders, her arms. I don’t rush. I don’t talk. I just take care of her. She closes her eyes as I rub her back, then turns, so I can rinse her off. I run my fingers through her wet hair to loosen the knots, careful not to tug. At one point, she rests her forehead against my chest. I kiss the top of her head but say nothing.
We take our time. When we step out, I wrap her in a fresh, oversized towel and dry her off, then scoop her into my arms. She doesn’t protest.
I carry her to the bedroom, set her gently on the bed, and go to grab another towel for her hair. When I return, I lean over her and start drying the dripping strands off with careful hands.
When I finish, she’s sitting still, wrapped in terry cloth, slightly damp hair clinging to her cheek. That’s when I take a step back and ask:
“You tried to move your money.” My voice is low. “Why?”
“Funny how you know that.” Her voice is hoarse.
I pause, watching her from where I lean against the dresser, arms crossed, the towel I just used on her hair slung over one shoulder. “You think I’m spying on you?”
“Aren’t you?” she snaps. “You knew the second I tried. How? You tracking my laptop? My phone? Put a bug in my purse?”
“I didn’t need to track anything.” My voice stays calm, but it’s a fight. “Ryan set up alerts on that account. We knew the Greeks would be watching it, so yeah—when someone tried to access it, we got flagged.”
She glares at me and tightens her plush towel. A droplet falls onto one of her creamy shoulders. “So that’s why I can’t even access my own goddamn money? You and your brother decided I didn’t need to anymore?”
“That’s not what happened.”
“No? Then explain it. Because I tried to access it like any normal person would, and I got locked out. I entered the password I always use. It didn’t work. I tried the next logical one. Didn’t work. And now you’re sitting here, acting like I committed treason.”
I take a breath. We didn’t change her password, but I don’t point that out. I’m trying to stay calm as it is, and this is not a point I want to argue.
“It’s not about you accessing your money,” I bite out. “It’s about timing. The Greeks are watching that account. Everything you did tonight made you look a lot more dangerous than you are. You triggered every alarm they have.”
“Oh, I’m sorry I made myself look dangerous,” she shoots back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “God forbid they see me as more than just your property. I wasn’t trying to be covert. I was trying to make sure I had options. I wasn’t even going to use the money right away. I just wanted to know I could get to it.”
“But you were going to take it. For what? A rainy day?”
“Yes! Because I don’t trust you!”
The words hang between us, sharp and sudden.
I take a step toward her. My voice is a snarl. “You don’t trust me.”
“You’re hiding things from me, Liam.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“There it is!” She barks out a bitter laugh, backing up on the bed. I assume she’s trying to get farther away from me. She sits against our headboard, hands waving as she shouts at me. “That’s the line. That’s always the fucking line! You’reprotectingme. From what? Information? Choices? Myself?”
“You’re my wife, Taryn.” I try to stay calm despite her volume. I think that only further pisses her off.
“That doesn’t mean I belong to you!” she yells.
“No? No? Well, what the fuck do you think it means? It means I’m responsible for you.” My own volume is increasing.
“That’s not marriage, Liam. That’s control.” Her loud voice breaks on the last word.
I rake a hand through my damp hair. That’s it. I raise my voice. Shout right back at her. “You think I want control? I’m barely holding on here. I could have walked away, Taryn, the minute I learned about where you invested your money. I didn’t. I’m still right fucking here!” I throw my hands in the air, indicating our bedroom. “You left me.You lied about why. You didn’t come home, and then you moved your money like you were running.”
“Because I was thinking about running!”
“Why?” I force out the word. I clench my jaw to keep myself from yelling again. “Why do you keep trying to leave me when everything I’ve done is to make sure you’re safe at my side?”
She exhales, sharp and shaky. “Because I’m scared,” she says, her voice cracking enough to make me go still. “Because I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere between the fighting and the marriage and you looking at me like I’m the center of your damn world…it stopped feeling like a setup. It started to feel real.”
