Fuck.Violet goes pale and I know I've pushed the wrong button at the wrong time. Of course my sweet woman wanted multiple men in the past, Ellis and Nate.
"I'm sorry," I rush to apologize, and the light begins to fade from her eyes. "Sweets, stop. Come back. I'm sorry for pushing. I wouldn't judge you. Hell, I kinda like the idea of surrounding you with a few other guys. More protection, more eyes and soothing hands to keep you from putting those walls back up."
To my horror, a tear slips free from her right eye, and her lip begins to wobble again. "Fuck. Violet, why are you crying?"
She doesn't answer me. Instead, she tugs her knees up to her chest, dislodging my hold, and spins on thecounter. With her back to me, she jumps down on the other side. "I'm gonna go wash my face," she mutters as she walks away.
Groaning once she's out of sight, I hang my head. A few more curses slip out of my mouth. Why must I always push her away? When will I figure out where the fucking line is with her?
I must figure it out quickly because I can't stand my sweet girl crying.
Twenty-Six
VIOLET
The woman staring back at me in the mirror looks like a lost little girl. When did my eyes start sinking into my skull and my eyebrows go unplucked? Maybe when I started spending all waking hours with tears in my eyes and my mind dragging me through the guilty pits of hell.
"I'm a mess," I whisper. The faucet can't drown out the exhaustion in my voice. I don't mean physically. I mean I am completely and utterly tired of trying to figure things out.
I feel like I should be able to pinpoint the exact moment everything took a turn. Was it when Jamie answered my phone and spoke to my mom?
Honestly, I think it was before that. My walls had begun to crumble with each interaction I had with him. Cassidy also chipped away at the boundaries around my heart with her hard truths.
I could be angry with all the shit being thrown at me, but all I feel is overwhelmed. Not to mention themugging. I'm worried it might be causing me to slip into panic more easily. Like it triggered my nervous system and made me vulnerable. There's been no time or space in my mind to figure it out though.
Wishing I would have begun to change a long time ago doesn't help. But maybe if I had the chance to find the new me, I would be stable enough to deal with Ellis and Nate coming back into my life.
Scoffing at myself, I cup the cool water in my hands and splash my face. What a stupid thought. Ellis and Nate aren't here for me. They aren't part ofmylife. The only reason they're even talking to me is because they like Jamie. And I can't blame them.
A knock sounds behind me, and Jamie's voice rings out. "My love?"
Immediately, more fucking tears fill my eyes. Why is he so nice, soloving? I know he thinks Nate and Ellis are the reason for my emotional torment, but they aren't even half of it. It's Jamie and all the changes. I want him so badly, and I've fought it for so long that now I'm trying to embrace him while fighting against my past. It's too much.
The ball of emotion that halts my voice suddenly bursts in a growl of frustration. Whipping around, I yank the bathroom door open and glower at the handsome man who thinks he can steal my heart.
I'm not ready to admit he owns my heart, body, mind, and soul.
"Stop calling me that," I snap.
My chest is heaving and my breasts feel a little heavy. There. Yes. This is what I want. A fight. A sexyfight. Jamie raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow which just pisses me off more.
Why am I standing here in a pair of jeans and a lame top when I should be in my favorite black lacy lingerie? Why am I self-conscious about my eyebrows?!
"Stop calling you what?" Jamie says, but his voice is too soft. Too understanding and gentle.
"My love. I'm not your love." Although, the ache in my heart when I deny his claim tells me otherwise.
His eyes flare, but he hesitates, eyeing me like he can see right through my anger. "I think you like it. Just as you like it when I call you Sweets."
Don't stomp your foot. Don't stomp your foot,I tell myself, though the urge to throw a tantrum builds as the gleam in his eyes brightens.
"Right, Violet?" Jamie prompts me to talk, but I'm sick of talking.
All the warmth that surrounded my heart when he called memy loveminutes ago travels south. My foot lifts; instead of responding by stomping away from him, my feet carry me into his arms.
"V?" Jamie grunts out as I collide with his chest.
Needing him to shut up, I stand up on my tingling tippy toes and kiss him. As if in muscle memory, my arms rise and wrap around his neck, not allowing him to pull back. I need this. I need him.
