Page 6 of Love At Peace

“Because they can’t!” she yelled, shoving her fists down as she locked her arms at her sides.

“Bullshit.” I shook my head.

“I—” She closed her mouth and breathed hard through her nostrils. “I don’t have to get into this with you.”

“Why not?” I shouted back. “Why does it have to feel so good to keep me in the dark? Huh? Why is your first instinct to shut me out?”

She blinked quickly, looking away.

“I want to help you, Heather. I’m not the enemy.”

Why can’t you see that?

I didn’t understand how she wouldn’t know that, how she couldn’t feel it when we were close. When we lay in each other’s arms. When we closed our eyes and kissed. It made no sense that we could be in sync physically and intimately but so distant mentally and emotionally.

“She is making herself my enemy,” she bit out. “And he will always be my enemy.”

“Why?” I asked. “Tell me. Please, Heather. I don’t want to see you suffer and be scared like this.” I took one step forward as my heart banged wildly in my chest. Seeing her caught in panic like this caused me to ache at the injustice of it all. “I want to help but I can’t if you don’t tell me what is wrong. What he did or how I can help—”

“I never asked for your help!” Tears clung to the edge of her lids as she screamed it at me. “I never asked for your fucking help!”

Retreating at the raw fury in her words, I stepped back once. Twice. I held my hands up, hating that I’d done what I vowed not to.

I’d pushed her to snap at me. I’d prompted her to lose it like this.

Seeing her like this, angry and vocal, almost made me want to keep going. That if we let this argument scale higher and tenser, she’d blurt out the big, bad secrets she didn’t want me to know.

But I couldn’t.

The damage was done.

She called Nevaeh and David her enemies, but I was certain she wanted to include me on that list too.

In a blur, she pushed past me, rushing for her door.

I didn’t move, watching in stunned silence as she unlocked the door and slammed it shut after herself.

Hearing the sounds of her cries from inside, I tried to stay strong and know that this fight was both of our faults. Too many miscommunications. Too many secrets on her part. Too much determination to help on mine.

She cried, locking herself away from me.

And I’d never hated myself more.

Chapter 3

Heather

Tears never helped anyone. They didn’t help me when David sedated me and kept me in “our” apartment because he thought I was trying to look at another man. They didn’t change anything when David withheld food from me and shamed me at the offices for being a fat snackaholic.

Crying didn’t solve a damn thing. They never had. When I was younger and frustrated with the judgments, name-calling, and lack of ever fitting in, tears were a weakness that irritated my parents. It was then that I learned to keep a fine, girding lock on my emotions to avoid letting anyone see how upset I could be. Because no one gave a shit.

The hot tears that streaked down my face now couldn’t be stopped though. I’d made myself clear. I told Roarke, in no uncertain terms, that I was mad and frustrated.

But to cry?

He heard me.

He saw me.