“You wouldn’t dare—”
“Try me, Mother.”
She gives me a hard stare. I meet it squarely, unblinking. As the moments pass, her face scrunches. “Oh myGod. You have feelings for that bitch, don’t you?”
My eyebrow twitches. “What are you talking about?”
“What am I talking about?” Mom lets out a mocking laugh. “You care about your wife so much, you want me to give her respect. Give herspace.” She glares like I just plunged a knife into her heart.
I grimace, not wanting to admit that she’s right about anything. But what else explains my reaction to Fiona?
Would it be better if I deluded myself?No. I don’t believe in living a lie, no matter how pretty and convenient.Fuck.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ll say it again: stay the hell away from me—andFiona—or next time it won’t just end with a warning.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Fiona
I order a pepperoni and sausage pizza for dinner and stare out at the crimson roses in the backyard.
What was going through his mind when he chose those roses? Was his reason as romantic as Akiko believes? It’s possible I meant so little to him that he didn’t care what the roses were called. But if that were the case he wouldn’t have been so nasty when I barged into his office to borrow money…
Did I make a mistake in trying to put up a huge shield against Bryce out of fear? Am I acting in waysright nowthat might sabotage my happiness? If I’d opened up a little after meeting him again, would things be different between us?
The door opens, and I turn around. Bryce walks in, holding a pizza. I stare at him. The man is as gorgeous as ever in a dark navy pinstripe three-piece suit that molds to his body perfectly, his mustard tie impeccably knotted. Dark circles underneath his eyes don’t take away the beauty of his face, which has to be blessed by the gods, because nobody should be that stunning.
His full mouth quirks in a small smile. “Took it directly from the delivery guy. Hope you don’t mind.”
He turns and places the pizza on the counter. My heart freezes at thesight of a long red gash on his cheek and a small scab in the corner of his mouth.
“What happened to yourface?” I shriek, rushing toward him. I rise to my toes to study the wound, but he’s too tall. I drag him to one of the stools at the counter and push him down onto it.
“Tilt your head so I can see better.”Not an accidental scratch for sure. It’s too deep and too straight. And the bloodied lip? Has to be intentional. “Who did this to you?”
He pulls back a little. “Whoa, calm down.”
“Iamcalm!” I shout, then click my teeth closed. I clear my throat. “Sorry.”
“Better now?” he asks.
“Tell me the other guy went to the ER. Or at least that you’re going to sue him to death. You’re a lawyer. You can do it for free.”
Bryce laughs. “It’s best not to be your own lawyer. Too close to home.”
“Fine. Your father can sue him. Or your aunt.”
Warmth softens his eyes. “I appreciate the outrage, but it’s okay.”
“But look at that scratch! It’s all bloody. Well, scabby now, but it must’ve hurt.” I let out an exasperated sigh. Frustration and disapproval pile into my heart, one layer after another until I want to scream. What kind of asshole did this to him? And why hasn’t he done something to it? At least put a bandage or something on it. “Let me get something for your cut.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you aren’t. I need a Band-Aid. Where do you keep them?”
He gives me a half-amused, half-confused look. “The first-aid kit is in the powder room by the staircase.”
He starts to move. I put a finger on his chest and push him back into the stool. “Don’t even think about it.”
