“It’s not because of that.” A crease formed between his eyebrows, and his breath grew heavier. “Give me the fucking bag, Samara.”
“Itisbecause of that.” He kept trying to grab the bag, so I threw it over my shoulder, my knuckles turning white on the strap. “You’re acting like you weren’t the one who decided not to be with me.”
“You’re acting like a child.” He jabbed his fingers through his damp hair and then wrapped the tie from his wrist around it. “Are you going to give me my bag or not?”
“Not.” The bridge of my nose burned, spreading to the corners of my eyes, and before I could stop them, a few tears escaped. “Am I that abhorrent?” My voice cracked under the weight of his rejection.
I hadn’t meant to reveal just how deeply his dismissal cut, but there it was, my insecurity laid bare alongside the carved soap. I always guarded my vulnerabilities, but I was practically begging him to tell me I was worth fighting for.
He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “How many times are you going to make me explain this to you? I. Do. Not. Want. To. Be. Intimate. Get it through your thick little skull.”
Ouch.
“But the other night?—”
“The other night was a mistake. I apologize. Now give me my bag.”
I shook my head in defiance. “If Becca could hear?—”
At the mention of her name, Nico stalked forward, and I was left with no other choice but to back up. My ass hit my desk, and I gasped as he placed his hands on either side of me on the desk, trapping me.
Bringing up Becca in the middle of a conversation aboutintimacy was a low blow, but his logic of continuing to suffer was incredibly flawed. It pissed me off and made me want to smack him in the head with his bag.
We might not have been having sex, but we were so far into the intimate zone they should erect a statue of us with a plaque that lamented that he hadn’t touched me the way I craved.
“You have no idea what it’s like. So don’t you dare stand here and tell me what Becca,myBecca, would have thought of this.” His voice dripped with anger and sadness. He reached for my shoulder and took the bag off my arm.
His footfalls were heavy as he went to the door.
When it came to Becca, I tried to control my emotions for Nico’s sake. But I was tired. He’d lost his mate, but sometimes he forgot I not only lost Becca as a best friend but also a piece of him too. “You know I promised her to take care of you and make sure you move on.”
He stopped, his hand squeezing the doorknob. “I have.” He walked out, slamming the door.
The dam that had been keeping the tears at bay broke, and I crumbled to the floor, my legs no longer able to support my weight. Or maybe it was everything I’d lost and continued to lose.
The soap caught my eye through my tears, the acorn design now unrecognizable. With shaking hands, I scooped up the crumbled pieces. So stupid. So fucking stupid to think a soap carving would fix anything.
I hurled the fragments at the wall, watching them shatter into smaller pieces. The smell of cedar and fruit filled the room, mocking me with its cheerful scent.
I scooted against the foot of the bed, the cool wood against my spine doing nothing to soothe the burning ache inside me. Exhaustion set in, and my eyelids fluttered closed.
I squeezedwater from the cloth and refolded it to place on Becca’s forehead. Her face was deathly white, and her skin was clammy.
Her mouth twisted in pain as she sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth. “When will Nico be here?”
I took my best friend’s hand in mine and squeezed. Nico was on a hunt, and our messenger had left to find him. There had been no signs that the baby would come early, otherwise, he wouldn’t have left.
“I’m not sure, sweetie.” I looked at the midwife, who lifted the blanket to examine Becca’s progress.
She shook her head subtly while Becca wasn’t looking, and my heart dropped to the floor. We had already tried to turn the baby, so it wasn’t breech, but it had been impossible. The midwife’s husband had taken to the skies to find a doctor in the closest village, but that attempt was futile.
The nearest village was hours away by air, and if the doctor didn’t have a fast mode of transportation, it could take days. That was if a doctor agreed to come out to our location.
“Can you tell him something for me?” Her breaths were getting shallower.
Tears blurred my vision, and I nodded. “Anything.”
“Tell him I love him and that he needs to move on, even though it’s going to kill him.”
