“We had good times at that piano.” It’s whispered. I didn’t mean to voice it out loud.
“And we will again.”
I shake my head slowly and pull my chin away from his fingers.
“I know you’re angry,” he says. There’s no malice in his voice. He sounds perfectly calm, but when I glance over, I see torment in his gorgeous dark eyes. “Youshould be. All I can do is prove to you, every day, how much you mean to me and that I’ll never let you get hurt like that again. Iwillprove it to you, Natasha. Just promise you won’t leave me.”
“I don’t have anywhere to go.” My lower lip trembles, and I try to firm it. “I learned that the hard way.”
“Fuck, baby. I need to hold you. Tell me I can hold you.”
That’s the other thing: Since I’ve been back here, he only wraps his strong arms around me when I give consent.
I brush away my tears with the back of my cut hand and then give him a nod, and he gently wraps his arms around my shoulders, tugging me against him.
He’s so warm. So fucking strong.
And he smells so damn good.
“You break my heart every fucking day,” he whispers into my hair.
“Same,” I whisper back.
Suddenly, the glass door opens again, and when I look over, I see Lulu and Scarlett rushing over to us.
“Oh my God,” Lulu says, wiping tears from her cheeks. “He can’t keep me away from you for another minute. Oh, honey, we missed the fuck out of you.”
“You go,” Scarlett says, pointing to Julian. “Go do Mafia shit. This is girl time.”
Julian glances at me and lifts his eyebrow.
“Go do Mafia shit,” I repeat with a soft smile. “These two can take over the babysitting duties.”
“I haven’t been?—”
“Girl time,” Scarlett says again, leaving no room for argument.
Julian sighs and presses his lips to my forehead, then brushes his lips by my ear, and little tingles explode over my skin.
I’m still attracted as fuck to my husband.
“I won’t be gone long. Call me if you need me.”
And then he walks away, leaving me with Lulu and Scarlett.
Thirty-Four
JULIAN
I didn’t wantto leave her, and it isn’t because I’m babysitting her like she says. It’s because whenever I’m more than eight feet away from her, I physically ache. I start to have panic attacks, wondering if the infection is coming back, if she’s feeling better, does she still hate me.
Natasha may be at home with me, but there’s a wall a mile high between us. I’m grateful that she wants to sleep in our bed, but she only cuddles me if I ask her to. Sheneverinitiates physical touch, and now she’s flinching again when I reach for her.
We’ve gone all the way back to the beginning, and I want torage. I want to get on my knees and beg her to forgive me, for things to go back to the way they were before I fucked everything up.
I know she needs time. She’s still healing and coming to terms with everything. She’s still angry, and damn it, I get that.
But when she asked me if she should have dinner waiting for me, she might as well have opened my chest and plucked my heart from my body.
