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“It burned. I only wanted it to stop burning,” she slurs, blinking away the water from those fucking eyes. They’re bluer now, reflecting the surface of the water.
“What burned?”
“Everything.” Her shoulders slump in my hold. “I thought the water would fix it.”
“The water you don’t know how to swim in.”
“Oh.”
“Right. Fuckingoh. What would’ve happened if I hadn’t been here?”
She flinches but says nothing.
“Answer me. What the fuck would’ve happened if you’d been on your own, Gwyneth?”
“I…would’ve drowned.”
Her softly-spoken words stab me in the fucking chest and I have to close my eyes for a second to chase away their impact. The thought of her drowning, gurgling and choking on water with no one to save her is like the monster I feared as a kid.
Turns out that monsters can show up at any time in your life. I just never thought that this damn woman would be the cause of it.
And then as I open my eyes and look at her bloodshot ones and the strands of her hair sticking to her face and neck, I realize it’s not only about the possibility of her drowning.
It’s about her being hurt in any way and my not being there.
It’d kill me.
Even if I’m mad at her, even if I’m still seeing red from when I caught her drunk and grinding against two guys. Fuckingtwo.
All my self-control was used up at that moment, because if it were up to me, I would’ve claimed her in front of them and showed the world who she belongs to.
I would’ve fucked her in front of them, then blinded their fucking eyes.
But that anger and violent possessiveness are nothing compared to the fear that she could’ve died if she’d been here all alone.
That her reckless behavior I once thought was adorable could’ve taken her away from me.
“That’s right. You would’ve fucking drowned.” I dig the pads of my fingers into her shoulders. “This nonsense will never be repeated. Understand?”
“Okay.”
“And you’re not drinking again until you’re twenty-one, and you know the meaning of drinking responsibly.”
A delicate frown etches in her forehead and she slurs, “Stop talking to me as if I’m a kid. I hate that.”
“Then don’t act like one. And for the last goddamned time, answer your phone when I call you.”
She bites her lower lip but doesn’t say anything.
“I mean it, Gwyneth. You can’t disappear without notice again.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why?”
“Why would you care whether I disappear or not? Whether I answer your calls or not?”
I grind my jaw, but before I can say anything, she tightens her legs that are wrapped around my waist. “Is it because you’re my husband?”
