Page 182 of Stanton Unconditional

“No, she was calm, and I argued. Tell me, Cam, do you think Natasha loves me?” I sigh.

He smiles. “I hope so.” My face drops.

“Of course, she does, idiot.” He frowns. “Why would you even say that?”

I shrug and take a drink of my coffee. “She keeps leaving me.” He shakes his head. “Josh…she has had her own reasons. She has never cheated on you. Hell, she hasn’t even slept with anyone else.” He frowns.

I run my hands through my hair in frustration. “What are you worried about?” he sighs.

“That she is going to leave me again, and that I won’t cope,” I mumble.

“Josh. Get over it. Every man on the planet gets fucked around at some point. Why are you carrying on?” he whispers angrily.

I shrug as my eyes flick to Tash.

“You call her the drama queen. I reckon you’re being the drama queen. Of course she was pissed the other night and left. You were filmed with a stripper. I’m pissed off with you myself for being so stupid,” he snaps. I pick up her hand and kiss the back of it.

“I’m still in love with her,” I whisper as my eyes linger on her beautiful face.

Cameron rolls his eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Adrian

I wake to the sound of the shower running and I smile as I roll over and look at the ceiling. I haven’t felt this happy for a very long time. After spending every night with Nicholas for the last month we have finally become intimate over the weekend. It’s Monday morning and he hasn’t left my side since Friday. Satisfaction is running heavily through my veins, both emotionally and physically. The shower turns off and ten minutes later I hear Nicholas out in the kitchen. It’s weird he didn’t wake me up like he has every other day. I rise and walk out. He is dressed in his suit and is sitting on the lounge putting socks on.

I saunter into the kitchen and flick the coffee machine on.

“Good morning, I smile.

He looks up from what he is doing, and his haunted eyes meet mine. I frown in question.

“Put some clothes on,” he whispers.

I frown again and put my hand on my hip. “Excuse me,” I mutter. He’s got to be kidding, we have been naked the whole weekend.

He drops his head again and fiddles with his socks.

“What’s up?” I ask as I lean on the counter. Something is obviously the matter.

He stands. “I’m in love with you,” he whispers.

I smile. “Well, that’s good because I am in love with you,” I reply.

He drops his head. “Don’t,” he whispers. I frown.

“What do you mean don’t?” I reply.

“Adrian, you can’t love me.”

“Why not?” I snap.

His haunted eyes meet mine again. “Because I am married.” I frown. “No, you are widowed.”

He shakes his head frantically. “You don’t understand. I feel guilty for feeling like this about you when my husband is dead. I swore I would never love again and here I am playing happy family with you.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “A game you insisted on,” I snap.

“I haven’t slept all night. I should not have done this to you. I thought that I was ready, but I don’t think I will ever be ready.” Hurt pierces my heart and I hold his gaze.

“Do you think he wouldn’t want you to be happy? You deserve to be happy, Nicholas, you have lost enough.”

“He deserved to live and to have his husband to be loyal to him till the very end,” he whispers. “This isn’t about me…or you. This is about Pierre and his memory.”

Nausea rolls in my stomach. “Get out,” I snap as I storm to my bedroom and sit on the side of my bed. Five minutes later I hear him pick up his keys and the door quietly shut behind him.

Tears fill my eyes. “I loved you too, Nicholas, I loved you too,” I whisper.

Joshua

It’s 12.30 am and I sit in the chair next to Natasha’s bed watching her in silence. She should have woken up by now. I am giving it half an hour and then I am calling Cameron. This is bullshit, something is wrong. I read the diaries. Every sordid detail of the way I have treated her is right there on paper in black and white from her perspective. How can she still love me after everything I have put her through? I smile, she loves me…even after all that, she still loves me. I haven’t found the most recent diary. I looked everywhere but she has obviously hidden it. My stomach is twisted with guilt, she knows more about my past with other women than I thought. I have been blaming her for our demise when I should have been listening to her reasoning. It makes sense when I see it from her point of view, as twisted as that is. I am going to make it up to her, and if it’s the last thing that I do. I have never loved her more.