Nathaniel’s expression is placid. He could be discussing the weather. “She came here to tie a loose end. I came to remind you she’s no longer yours to untangle.”
“That’s enough,” I say, my voice too soft to cut through the tension, but he hears me. He always does.
His eyes return to mine. “Of course, baby.” A pause. Then, as if to twist the knife, “Sorry to interrupt. Please, take your time.”
Landon’s gaze burns into me. “If this was your idea of closure, you should’ve just stayed away.”
“Landon—” I reach across the table, but he’s already grabbing his jacket. “I didn’t know he’d come. I wasn’t trying to ambush you?—”
“It doesn’t matter.” He doesn’t yell, doesn’t cause a scene. But the weight in his voice is worse. “You two deserve each other.”
He’s gone before I can say another word.
I’m still staring at the door when Nathaniel breaks the silence.
“That went well.”
I turn to him slowly. “How did you even know where?—”
He steps closer, fingers brushing my chin as he tilts my face to his. His eyes are gentle, but they gleam with satisfaction.
“Don’t lie to me next time,” he murmurs, his tone indulgent, as if he’s chastising a child. “It’s time to go home now.”
The nerve.
Heat floods my chest, sharp and electric. I jerk my face out of his grasp and grab my bag without looking at him. My fingers shake as I zip it shut, the motion clipped, too fast, too loud for a place like this. I stand, my chair scraping against the floor, and walk out the door without a word.
My heels click against the pavement in rapid succession, each step punctuated by the fury boiling inside me. I can hear him behind me—footsteps measured, almost lazy.
“Olivia,” Nathaniel calls after me, his voice maddeningly calm.
I spin around, glowering at him. “Don’t. Just…don’t.”
He doesn’t flinch, his blue eyes gleaming as they lock on mine. “You shouldn’t be walking alone.” His tone is coaxing. “It’s getting dark. Come with me, baby. I’ll make you dinner.”
“No,” I snap, turning away from him and quickening my pace. “I’m not going back with you.”
“Then where will you go?” he asks, as if it’s some kind of game.
“I don’t know,” I throw over my shoulder, refusing to look at him. “Anywhere but with you.”
The silence that follows is ominous.
I barely have time to register it before his arms close around my waist and my feet leave the ground.
“Nathaniel!” I shriek, kicking my legs uselessly as he carries me like I weigh nothing. “Put me down right now!”
He ignores me completely. His expression is inscrutable as he marches down the sidewalk. People turn to stare, but he doesn’t seem to notice—or care. My fists pound against his chest, but it’s like hitting a brick wall.
By the time we reach his Aston Martin, which is parked haphazardly along the curb, I’m breathless with indignation.
He opens the passenger door with one hand, still holding me securely with the other, and sets me down none-too-gently in the seat. I’m too stunned to move as he grabs the seat belt and clicks it into place, his movements precise and controlled.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I hiss. “You can’t just—justmanhandleme like that! Let me out!”
Again, he ignores me. He rounds the car and slides into the driver’s seat. Only when the door clicks shut does he look at me, his handsome face unnervingly calm.
“Let me out, Nathaniel,” I demand, my voice rising. “Right now.”
