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I square off with him. “Sorry. I no longer take orders from you.”
“You never did. And this doesn’t have to get ugly.”
“Except it will because I won’t b
e manipulated by you again. And I want answers.”
“Let it go. We were foolish people then, who did stupid shit. Your part in it ends in this room.”
“Stupid…” I draw the word out. “Well, I’ve definitely felt that over the years.”
His nostrils flare as I draw closer, the energy between us crackling with each step, making it harder to breathe. Volatile eyes scour me before he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Do you want an apology?”
“Now that would be worthless. What you did to me was unusually cruel, don’t you think?”
“It was necessary.”
“Necessary…no, I don’t like it. And cruel might be mild in comparison to what it was. Merciless might be the better word. But I’ve tried really hard not to hold it against you because it came from a place of pain. At least it did at first.”
His jaw feathers with irritation and my palm itches to slap and soothe. Physically I can feel every emotion rolling between us, but I want so much to break this tension because it hurts.
His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks. “What do you want?”
“I want you to talk to me. Grant me a conversation.”
“I have nothing to say.”
“I have plenty.”
His nostrils flare. “Then let’s hear it.”
“No,” I say softly. “I don’t think so. Not this way. Not with ears on the other side of that door.”
“This was a mistake,” he barks out and runs a hand through his hair, ruining the composed look of it. “The deal was—”
“We’re still in negotiations,” I snap, striding toward him in anger. “You plotted and schemed using me as a ragdoll, and you’re the one who’s aggravated? I’m not going to deny you this, but how dare you stand there and have the audacity to act indignant about it?”
“Again. You were never supposed to be involved in any part of this. From day one, I told you to stay the fuck away. But you didn’t listen.”
“And you stayed away?”
He levels me with his response. “It meant far more to you than it did to me.” Inside I’m dying, his words hitting as hard as he intended. I glance back out the window to keep him from seeing the sting. Tension thickens as he speaks from behind me. “Everything has moved on without you.”
“Good to know.”
“Just sign the papers and go home. You’ll be a rich woman.”
That comment has my focus back on him, my glare full of the offense I feel. “Money means absolutely fucking nothing to me. And I’m a successful woman already without this deal.”
“I’m aware.”
“Are you?” I cross my arms. “Is that part of moving on?”
“We’re not going back there.” His voice is steel, the edges of the blade slashing across my chest. Why can’t I let go of this man that so clearly despises me? I had suspected as much, but now it’s blisteringly evident. In a way, I cost him his brother, as my father did his parents. Maybe he has every right to hate me and vice versa, so why can’t I hate him back?
Electricity sparks the longer we share space, and I can feel the increase in the thrum between us, while he tries to feign indifference. But it’s still there. And how I wish it weren’t. How I wish that fate or karma or whatever it is that decided to tether us together would disappear and release me, release us both. But it’s there, and it’s so loud, it might as well be the pound of a drum.
This, this is why he didn’t want to be in the room with me. Our connection is in our chemical makeup, an unexplainable bond. It was our undoing years ago, and it ate us alive. It’s every bit as strong now. It’s so easy to put my finger on the why of us when every part of me is buzzing in awareness.
