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“And what would you call any of what happened at my family’s home?” he asked, lifting his eyebrow. “A fucking Happy Days reunion?”
“Exactly. We were dealing with your mom. So, why would I pile my bullshit on top of that?” I asked. “I mean, honestly, why would I want to bring up the darkest part of my life if I didn’t have to?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, his voice turning into a dry, sarcastic tone. “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we decided to do this relationship for real? I wasn’t fucking around when I admitted I wanted this to work, and I hope you weren’t, either. You should’ve told me something about this stuff, Nat. This is some heavy shit.”
I felt a strange hot, prickling sensation as it surged through my stomach, filling me with a nauseating defensiveness that gave me a sour taste at the back of my mouth. “You never asked, Spencer. Not really, and you know it. How was I supposed to know you were ready for all that? It’s not the easiest thing to open up about.”
His expression was blank as I went on.
I held up my hand, shaking my head. “And let me remind you that you brought me to Italy and into your family’s crap so you’d have a bone to throw and distract your mom while your brother got married. When was I expected to stop and download my family dysfunction onto you in the past weeks? Don’t forget you didn’t invite me to Italy with sincere intent, even if it might’ve turned into that. We started by fucking, so please don’t pretend you were invested in what was going on with my personal life then.”
I didn’t recognize the flash of anger that went through his eyes, but it was gone too quickly for me to comment on it. His face was coolly impassive now. “Fine. Say whatever you want to say about what and who we are to each other. I won’t pretend to be invested.”
He turned away from me, leaving me feeling a dry lump in my throat. “Fine,” I choked out, climbing off the bed and slipping my feet into my fuzzy slippers as I reached for the soft jersey robe on the chair next to the bed. “Fine. I won’t pretend, and I won’t ask you to, either.”
Nothing like two people determined never to have a relationship, finally forming one and then having no clue what to do with it. We were both lost, heading down a road without a map and with no idea where we were going. Any smart person would laugh their asses off at Spencer Monroe and Natalia Hoover trying to make a relationship happen…together.
Emotions started dumping on me now, and I didn’t know what to do with them. I didn’t need a fight with someone while I worked through family trauma. I had to get out of here quickly before the tears began to escape. I wouldn’t show him how much he affected me: I couldn’t.
“Nat.”
I didn’t look at Spencer as he caught me gently by the arm, turning me to face him. I pinched my lips together, swallowing back the knot that had formed in my throat.
“Baby.” He set his hands on my shoulders and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of what I said. I’m annoyed that you’re shutting me out, and I just—”
“Snapped?” I asked. “I noticed.”
“Stay here with me, please,” he said. “Let’s just sleep on it and let things get better for the morning, okay?”
I looked hard at him before conceding with a brief nod, removing my robe, and lying down on the bed again, turning onto my side and pulling the pillow forward, so my head was securely cushioned. I curled into myself, pulling my knees to my chest and looking toward the tiny crack in the drapes at the navy sky that hung above the park.
A hand crept over my belly, and I felt the touch of his chin poised over my shoulder, but I jerked out of his grip, pulling forward so that I hovered by the edge of the bed. I was so close to the end that I felt my knee hanging over the mattress.
“Natalia.”
The use of my full name made my stomach clench in an uncomfortable recognition, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Few people called me Natalia like he just did, and the one who did it most often had never done it with affection.
“Don’t,” I said, huddling in on myself. “Please. I can’t do this right now.”
He sighed through his nose as he pulled the covers up over us, allowing them to settle in place.
I wasn’t sure whether he slept, but sleep eluded me for hours as I stared into the corner of the room, wondering how we were supposed to move past this point.
Chapter Twenty-Five
SPENCER
The silence that stretched between us was deafening and seemed unending.
Everything I did around her, every step I took or every time I closed a door, felt too loud and abrupt for the house.
Before, everything we did felt effortless, but now, it all felt stilted and uncomfortable. It was as if whatever Shane had been trying to escape had followed him across the pond and been wedged between us in the form of a destructive, oppressive silence.
Nat’s little brother might’ve been a bit removed from reality, having done more than his fair share of drugs, but he was still aware of his surroundings and knew something was wrong too.
The day after he got there, he slept for almost a full twenty-four hours, only coming out for a few minutes here or there to make himself a cup of tea or coffee before heading back into his room to continue sleeping.
And now, it was yet another new day, and I expected more of the same.
