“I do.” He interrupts.
“Kidnapping me and holding me hostage is not love, Nico.”
“Then tell me what is?” he shouts. “I have protected you, and supported your dreams in every way that I know how. I’ve made it so that you never have to work again a day in your life, even if I die tomorrow. What the fuck else do you want from me, Tiff?”
“You!” I shout, tossing my arms in the air. “I want to know the man I married.”
“You know me.”
“Oh, really?” I swipe the tears under my eyes. “Where did you grow up?”
The moment my question comes out, his jaw ticks and those dark brown eyes nearly turn pitch black. I keep going with my questions.
“How did your parents die? What happened between you and your sister? Better yet, just tell me about your life after your parents died.”
“Enough,” he yells, running his hand through his hair. He pushes away from the desk and paces.
“None of that matters. The only things that are important are you, me, and Noah. The past is irrelevant.”
Shaking my head, I say. “I know nothing about you. You are a stranger to me.” He glares at me. However, I don’t let it deter me. “If your past was nourishment that I needed to survive, I’d be dead. That’s how little I know you. And until you can let me inside the real you, I don’t think I can love you.”
He looks away from me, his nostrils flaring and his face turning a deep shade of red. His hands clench at his side. His entire body is vibrating. But I don’t back down. Instead of standing in here and getting nothing in return, I turn and walk out of the office. The moment the door closes behind me, I hear the crash of something heavy slamming against the wall followed by a loud, anger-filled yell.
“Come away from the door, sweet pea.”
I look up to the top of the stairs to find Ms. Rose standing there. She’s wearing a flannel robe, her hair is in pink sponge rollers, and her arms are open wide.
I’m a grown woman, a mother, a wife, and a career professional. But seeing this woman dressed in her robe with her rollers, with care and concern on her face, has me breaking down. I take the stairs quickly into her awaiting arms. I bury my face in her shoulder and cry.
“He won’t let me in,” I blubber.
Ms. Rose calmly rubs my back.
“It’s okay. Let it all out.”
I cry on her shoulder until my tears refuse to fall any longer. When I have nothing left to give, she walks me to my room, climbs on my bed with me and hums an unknown tune. In the background of my heartbreak is the sound of my husband’s rage.
Finally, with my head lying in Ms. Rose’s lap, I fall asleep.
chapter thirteen
The Dress
Tiffany
Once again, Nico leaves the house before I wake. It’s been three days since the big fight in his office. By the time I could sneak back in there the next day, the place was already back in order. You would never have known that there had been any destruction.
I have not laid eyes on him since that night. He’s gone before I’m up and doesn’t get back until I’m fast asleep. I feel torn about this. In the past, all we did was argue when he was around, but I’d take that over this. Part of me wants to stand on business with what I told him that night, but the other part of me misses him. Not just his sex, but his conversation, his aura, the way he watches me whenever we are in the same room even if he’s angry or upset with me. The peace he once brought me with his presence. I miss….him.
Not having him around is messing with my head.
“Shit.” I flick my hand back and forth trying to cool the burn from the coffee I’d just spilled on it. I quickly rush to the sink to run it under some cold water.
“Let me,” Ms. Rose says, coming to my side.
After I spent the entire night crying in her lap, I was kind of ashamed. As much as I could with the woman that’s watching my son, I’ve been avoiding her.
She takes my hand and looks it over. She then goes over to her big knitted tote bag, pulls out a jar of something and walks over to me. Twisting the top off, she sticks her fingers in and then rubs the jelly-like substance over my hand. The stinging feeling immediately goes away.
