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“Give it back,” I demanded through clenched teeth as I flung open the guestroom door.
Chase’s eyes snapped open from where he lay on the bed and narrowed on me, confusion and irritation covering his face in an instant. “What?”
“Give it back.”
“The phone?” he asked slowly. “I left it on the counter this morning. Also thought it was mine.”
“You know what I’m talking about, Chase. Don’t disrespect me by pretending otherwise.”
He sat up, his face creasing from the pain of the action, but that furious glare never left me. “If we’re not talking about the phone, I really don’t.”
My head shook roughly as a traitorous sob built in my throat. “Why are you doing this?”
“I’m not doing shit.”
“You’re breaking my heart!” I cried out as the tears I’d been fighting filled my eyes until Chase and the room were nothing more than a blur.
My body sagged against the doorframe as I covered my face with my hands and willed the tears back. “God, you’re such an asshole,” I whispered as I let my hands fall.
Without looking at him again, I turned and went back to our room. Keeping my stare away from the wall as I went to the closet to grab a pair of shoes.
Once I had them on, I grabbed my phone and hurried from the room, only to come to an abrupt stop when I nearly ran into Chase as I rounded the hall.
He reached out as if he was going to steady me but dropped his arm before he could touch me. “Where are you going?” he asked as he took a step away from me.
My lips had parted to sayanywhere, but my shoulders sagged and a defeated laugh punched from my chest. “Does it matter?”
He gave a slow nod, taking my anger. “Been called an asshole enough times in my life to know it’s true—and I know I deserve it from you. But considering I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’d like it if you explainedwhyyou’re pissed at me.”
“Don’t do this,” I said on a weak breath. “Don’t play dumb. You know—”
“I fucking don’t, Scarlet.”
“Just give it back!”
“What?” he ground out, reclaiming that earlier step. “Givewhatback?”
“Our picture.” The words came out strained as I gestured behind me. A hushed cry fell from my lips when I asked, “Why are you trying to hurt me more?”
His stare had dragged to the hall just past me but snapped back to mine at the pained question. Something like regret and sorrow flashed through his blue eyes before it disappeared when he asked, “What picture?”
My body sagged with the weighted breath that rushed from me. “Chase...”
“Scarlet, I don’t know what we’re talking about. I don’t remember the last two-and-a-half years, if you forgot.”
“Trust me, I’m painfully aware,” I said through the glass lodged in my throat. “But you don’t need these last years to know what I’m talking about.” I gestured toward our room again. “You were looking at the picture when you got home yesterday—the one above our bed.”
His gaze drifted that way again and his expression fell as if he finally understood what we were talking about.
“And you think I took it?” he asked as those eyes swept to me and narrowed.
“Why wouldn’t I?” My face creased as I remembered the day before. “You lookedlividwhen I found you studying it.”
“I haven’t set foot in that room since I told you I was staying in the guestroom,” he said firmly, making me second guess my assumption for the first time since I’d noticed the large canvas was missing. “Did you ever think maybe it fell? Or did you just automatically assume I took it to hurt you?”
“It didn’t fall,” I said confidently. There was no space behind the headboard. The canvas would’ve been on the bed if it had somehow fallen.
Still, Chase stepped past me and headed for the room.
