She tosses the luggage onto the closet island and opens it up. I watch in wonder, trying to figure out exactly what the hell she thinks she’s doing with that.
“I’m not understanding the issue.”
She turns to me and narrows her eyes. Even with dried tears on her face and her long braids in a messy topknot on top of her head, she is still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
“Let’s see, you lied to me, kidnapped me, manipulated me, and tricked me into being with you.”
“I didn’t trick you.”
She rolls her eyes and goes back to yanking clothes off the hanger and stuffing them into the suitcase.
“Then what do you call it?” She stops what she’s doing and glares at me. “Everything I thought was real was a lie. You kidnapped me and drugged me.”
I wave away her concern. “They gave you a fucking sedative. Nyquil is stronger than the shit they gave you. You were never in harm.”
“It doesn’t fucking matter,” she shouts. She looks away as more tears fall. “Everything you did, all the tricks and the schemes, is what brought us together. Hell, even my son is a ploy by you. How do I even know any of this is real? I have a fucking child with you, Nico.” She wipes at her fast-falling tears.
My hands tighten at my side with the urge to grab her and pull her into me, but I know now isn’t the right time for that. There is a clawing of panic in my throat. My heart is racing.
“Everything we have is real, Tiff.” Her narrowed gaze tells me she doesn’t believe me. “You’re right. I pulled a lot of stunts to get your attention, but I never took your free will. Every decision you made was your own. I may have set the scene, but you chose the outcome.”
I don’t explain that I would have continued to set and change the scene in order to get this outcome. The truth is, I wasn’tgoing to let Tiffany go. While I never forced her to come to me, I would have continued to play my games until she made the decision to be mine.
She watches me for a minute before going over to her suitcase and closing it up.
“I’m leaving.”
She grabs the suitcase off the island and places it at her feet. I look her over, taking in her red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. The pain and mistrust staring back at me from her dark eyes should have concerned me. However, only a chuckle slips out of my mouth.
“I understand you need time. Get some rest. I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.” I turn to leave.
“No.” Her sharp voice has me turning back to her. “I’m taking my baby and I’m leaving.”
The roaring is back in my head, and my chest tightens. The fire that was once simmering has flared back up inside me.
I shake my head and run my thumb over my bottom lip. “See, now you got me fucked up.”
She takes a nervous step back.
“I don’t think you understand what those vows meant. For better or for worse, Tiff. ‘Til death do us part’.”
Her nostrils flare as she lifts her chin. “So what, you’re going to kill me too now, Nico?”
I take in the woman before me. The woman that I love. The woman who is truly my rib, my sanity, and my light. She looks nothing like the woman who only a year ago told me she loved me, that she would never leave me.
“I love you too damn much for that to be a real question.” I can tell my response relieves some of her fears. That shows just how much this woman doesn’t know me. I’d never hurt her.
“But just because I won’t hurt you don’t mean that I won’t bleed this got damn world to keep you. You know me as Nico,Tiff. You don’t ever want to meet Saint. Now put those clothes back and put that suitcase up.”
I turn and leave the closet after that. I needed to put space between my wife and I.
Twelve Hours Later….
The clock on my wall reads after midnight. The house is quiet, quieter than it has been in the year since Tiffany and I’ve been married. I hate the fucking silence.
The memory of Tiffany’s tear stained face this morning plays back in my mind. Glancing at the picture on my desk of her in that gorgeous white dress, her thick curly hair straightened and pinned back off her face. She looked so beautiful and bright that day. The last time I saw her, that light was nowhere in her eyes. I can admit I’m the cause of it.
The letter on my desk catches my attention. Picking it up, I read the scribbled letters once again.
